


Walk Into A Bar

by morgay



Series: Across Time and Space [3]
Category: Diary of a Wimpy Kid Series - Jeff Kinney, The X-Files
Genre: Abuse, Across Time and Space (ATAS), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Aliens, Alternative Sexuality, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, Attempted Kidnapping, Bisexual Male Character, Comfort, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Depression, Drama & Romance, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Falling In Love, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sex, Grief, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Kidnapping, Loneliness, Love Triangles, M/M, Mulder Torture, One Night Stands, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rodrick Torture, Sadness, Sex, Sexuality Crisis, Trauma, UFOs, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2020-04-05 07:39:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19044088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgay/pseuds/morgay
Summary: Rodrick Heffley never expected to save anyone in a dark alleyway. Fox Mulder never expected to be saved by another person while being beaten to death.All they had to do was walk into a bar, and their stories collided from there.





	1. An FBI Agent Walks Into A Bar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WitchyTwitchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchyTwitchy/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Across Time and Space](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11624247) by [morgay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgay/pseuds/morgay), [WitchyTwitchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchyTwitchy/pseuds/WitchyTwitchy). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fox Mulder meets Rodrick Heffley at a bar, but things don’t end up going so well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extended Blurb: 
> 
> After Rodrick Heffley saves Fox Mulder from a brutal beating, the two realize that they have much more in common than they originally thought. The paths ahead don’t lie easy, but with the support of each other, both men will blossom in their own ways. And, perhaps, along the way, sparks will fly. But with it, tensions will rise...

_An FBI Agent walks into a bar._

Fox Mulder was looking only for one thing: a drink. He slid past men and women alike, body crunching between rocking bodies, grinding hips and sparkling eyes. He expertly made his way to the counter, flicking over a $20. “Bourbon,” Mulder grunted.

“Back again?” the bartender asked, slightly amused. “I’m pretty sure this is your second time in here today.”

“I know, I know.” Mulder rolled his eyes, fingers twitching and aching for alcohol. “I don’t have anything else to do, really.” Not after his suicide attempt, but that was left unsaid.

Jerry, the bartender, grunted in response and set the drink down in front of Mulder, eyeing him. “You stay responsible, Fox. I can’t have you strollin’ around drunk at this time of night.”

Cringing at his name, Mulder turned his head to the side and didn’t reply. His throat was dry and his tongue felt like he’d just licked a pile of sand. He raised the bourbon to his lips and let it slide over his mouth, washing him away in a sheet of cold. His chest began to burn and pop mercilessly, but he visibly relaxed. 

He knew the crowd here almost better than the bureau. The man with brown hair and dark eyes in the corner always took a woman home with him, whether intentional or not. The girl with blonde hair and blue eyes most certainly just wanted a drink, but always ended up being groped by men and shoved into a corner that she couldn’t claw her way out of. Different couples liked to come here, too, just having fun and enjoying themselves on a night out.

Mulder twitched when he thought about Scully, but more or less blocked her out now-a days. She was happy with Colin. That’s all that mattered. _Even if I know he isn’t a good person_ , he thought absentmindedly, eyes flickering back and forth across the bar, _then again I can’t say much. It’s not like I am either._ He softly sighed and downed the drink in one long gulp and turned, slapping the glass down. “Refill, please.”

Jerry seemed reluctant but poured the bourbon once more anyway. Mulder swiveled around again, crossing one arm along his chest and swishing the alcohol in the other. He eventually grew bored with the people watching, but the numbness creeping through his head washed away his troubles, so he really had nothing better to do.

A grunt blew out of his lips when he watched someone _new_ walk through the door. His eyes widened slowly at the man, maybe a few years younger than him, stumble through the crowd on shaky legs, a fresh grin stuck to his face as he slid through. His hair was black as midnight, slightly unkept and hanging in threads over his shining dark eyes, which were circled in thick eyeliner. He had a ripped black shirt that showed his arms and shoulders, pale skin rippling underneath his clothing, and his pants were tight and skinny and clung to his legs. Mulder raised a brow at him but decided to divide his attention elsewhere, leaning back against the counter and exhaling.

And wouldn’t you guess, the guy sat right beside him. “Your best cocktail,” the man smirked, wiggling his fingers toward Jerry.

“Humph.” He began to mix the drink accordingly, pursing his lips. “I’ve never seen you in here before. New to Washington?”

“You could say that,” the man shrugged, clearing his throat. “I’m only here for a couple of days, though. Family, yada yada.”

“Gotcha.”

When he received the cocktail, he raised the glass and grinned. “Thanks.”

Jerry nodded and glanced at Mulder, a look which the stranger followed. Fox didn’t return the gaze, but turned his legs around and finished his second glass. “Jerry,” he moaned, “another?”

“This is your last one,” he sighed. “Seriously, Fox, you gotta stop doing this. Can’t you, like, get kicked out of the job for this?”

Mulder shrugged, ducking under the stranger’s imploring and curious stare. He hated being this awkward, and sharing a personal conversation in front of this guy was definitely something he didn’t want to do. However, Mulder wasn’t rude, and he wasn’t going to evade a question because he was embarrassed. “Yeah,” he offered, “but Skinner’s giving me some time off, after my time in the hospital.”

“Ah. Skinner. I love that guy.” Jerry smiled but it quickly flickered away. “Damn. You get shot? I guess that explains why you were gone for a few months.”

“Yep.” Mulder popped the ‘p’ and nodded slowly. “Shot.”

Meanwhile, the stranger had leaned closer, a smile widening on his dimpled cheeks. “Let me guess. You’re a copper?”

“One, no one calls them that anymore, and two, no, I’m an FBI Agent.”

The guy smirked. “Oo. Feisty. I love it!” He clapped his hands together. “I feel blessed. An FBI Agent, talking to _me_? What have I done to deserve this?”

Mulder, completely unamused, huffed and stared straight forward. Jerry had a knowing look in his eye and sped away, leaving the two alone.

“So.” The man crossed his legs and faced Mulder. “I’m Rodrick Heffley, and I’m a drummer in a band. Impressive, I know.”

He didn’t take the bait, but his bambi eyes flickered over Rodrick, pursing his lips. “Fox Mulder. FBI Agent.” He wasn’t keen on shaking anyone’s hand, and was grateful when Rodrick didn’t expect the touch. “And that is just.. awesome for you.”

Rodrick faltered for a moment, but quickly regained his composure and hummed. “Who’s the chick?” he asked unexpectedly.

Of all the things that could’ve have been questioned, Mulder was _definitely_ not expecting that one. He nearly spit his drink out, anger bubbling in his chest. “What?” he snapped.

“It’s quite obvious.” Rodrick waved his hand, cocktail spilling over the sides. “You’ve got this look. I can see it. Who is she? Unless..” He smiled. “It’s a _he_?”

“I’m not gay,” Mulder spat, and Rodrick appeared to be mildly disappointed. “Besides, it’s none of your business. She isn’t anyone.”

He smirked. “She isn’t anyone, huh? Is that why you mentioned her?”

Mulder clenched his fingers, turning back away from Rodrick. He didn’t want to think about Scully. He loved her — how had she not seen that? Or maybe she _had_ seen it, and had decided that finding a boyfriend was a better option. But god, he really — he’d really thought — ? Of course it didn’t happen, though. Nothing ever went his way. He was used to it by now. “I guess..” He breathed. “She just doesn’t want me anymore, y’know?”

“Ahhh.” Rodrick nodded heftily. “The sex was great and she just didn’t want that? Wanted a real relationship? I get it, dude, don’t worry.” He waved his hand, nonchalant.

“What? No! We never —” His face scrunched up. “We never did.. _that_. She’s my partner. She’s an FBI Agent, too.”

“Oooo. This... complicates things.” Rodrick fiddled with his fingers and pondered. “What seems to be the problem, then?”

Mulder groaned and thrummed his fingers through his hair, messing with the tangles and letting them slide through his hands. “We were never really together. We just — we were close. We’ve been partners for seven years. And then, well..” He trailed off. “Something happened a few months ago, and it drove us apart. After that, she started dating this guy named Colin. And let’s just say he’s a horrible person.”

“Damn. You have more drama than I do!” Rodrick tried to laugh, but Mulder could see the pain somewhere in there. To be honest, he wasn’t sure how much he cared right now, though. “I’m sure she’ll see what she’s missing out. Or, maybe you deserve better, y’know?”

 _Deserve better?_ Mulder thought, eyes flickering back and forth along the floor. He wasn’t better, though. He could still picture that night outside of the bar, the rage that had propelled him forward...

_”You piece of shit,” Mulder hissed, watching the two women at Colin’s side quickly disperse. The man looked annoyed more than anything and curled his lip into a sneer, eyes fiery._

_“What’s wrong, Fox?” Colin grinned. “Are you upset because you can’t fuck your partner anymore? That must be really hard. Can’t relate.”_

_“Don’t you talk about her like that,” he growled, “you’re her boyfriend! You should be loyal! And here you are, flirting with other women..”_

_“It’s harmless.” Colin walked by Mulder and narrowed his eyes when the FBI Agent held out a hand to stop him. “What are you gonna do? Huh? Tell her? You think she’ll come back to you? Dana loves me, Fox, not you. The sooner you realize it, the better off you’ll be.”_

_Mulder’s fingers twitched and he glared back at Colin for a moment. “Okay,” he said in a hushed voice, talking a step forward. Thankfully, he was taller than the other man. “You want to play this game? You want to pretend that you’re better than I am, when we both know that you were planning on taking those girls home? Fine. If that’s what you really want to do, then be my guest.” He paused. “But I’m not going to play along.”_

_His hand flew out and his knuckles clenched as they swiped along Colin’s jawline. The other man spluttered as he was knocked back, feet tangling below him. Mulder dropped to his knees and continuously punched Colin, watching the blood spread across his face, the crimson painting over his hands. Deep cuts and bruises splattered around Colin’s face, and Mulder felt a deep satisfaction at the sight._

__

__

_“You still think I’m playing? Huh?” Mulder stood up and glared down at Colin, who was squirming on the ground. “Well, I’m not.” He flicked his foot forward and felt the crunch of bones under his boot, smiling at the cry of anguish Colin let out. He kicked him again, and again, and again, hitting his ribs, his stomach, his sides — by the time he was finished, Colin was laying in a pool of his own blood._

“Deserve better..” he muttered. “Yep.” The back of his eyes burned and he choked out a huff that was originally meant to be a sob but he didn’t let it come out as one. Mulder slammed his glass down on the counter and flicked whatever he fished out of his wallet to Jerry. He didn’t say anything else, ignoring the wide-eyed and curious glance of Rodrick, and strolled away from the chair.

Mulder shouldered his way through the dancing bodies and pressed his shoulder against the door, spilling out of the bar and gulping in a breath of air. He screwed his eyes shut and rubbed his hands down his face, stressfully clawing his hand through his feathery hair. “Fuck!” he screamed into the night, not noticing the the flinch from the group of people walking past him.

He stood there like a fucking idiot for another five minutes before opening his eyes. He realized he was crying. _What a pussy_ , he told himself in a hiss, _Seriously? Crying over something you did? It’s your fault you hurt Colin. It’s your fault you hurt Dana. So get your shit together and move along!_

He exhaled and forced his legs to move, slowly walking away from the bar and realizing he was gonna have to walk home. Shit. He forgot he’d walked. _Well, this is gonna be fun_. Mulder grunted and strolled past an alley, pausing and fishing through his pockets to find his cigarettes. “Ugh...” Where were they? As he was distracted, two dark shadows snuck up from behind him.

Mulder felt a breath at his neck and froze. He stood there for a moment, calculating his options, before whipping around and snapping his hand forward. The man dressed in black ducked and bowled into him. Mulder gasped out when his skull bounced off the sidewalk. Stars swam in his vision and he felt blood trickle down his head, tears involuntarily dripping down his cheeks. He tried to scream out for help but he couldn’t speak, he was so disoriented and everything was dizzy and spinning.

His legs were tugged by both men and he was dragged into the dark alley, shadows swathing his body. Mulder cried when punches were sent to his face, cuts splitting into his forehead and jaw. A boot connected to his ribs and he turned on his side, holding his body with white knuckles. “No, no, no,” he muttered, the feeling of nausea overwhelming. He wanted to throw up and was pretty sure he was going to die. Why was he being attacked? Was it a mugging? An attempted kidnapping? Was it the work of The Smoking Man, or Krycek?

Mulder wasn’t sure he’d ever know. He shut his eyes and let cold numbness wash over him as the beating continued. His vision faded more and more, darker and darker, until the world seemed a million miles away...


	2. A Drummer Walks Into A Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodrick Heffley meets Fox Mulder in a bar. He never imagined he’d be saving an FBI Agent’s ass from a bunch of weirdos.

_A drummer walks into a bar._

Rodrick Heffley didn’t consider himself a bad person. In fact, he felt that he was quite the opposite. Of course, he could be rude, he could be snappy, and he liked to have a little fun every now and then, but he really did have a good heart.

At least, that’s what he thought until now.

He’d been away from his family for such a short amount of time, yet it felt like it had been _years_. There was no describing the emotion — was it guilt? Shame? Disappointment? He was sure he’d never be able to convey his feeling to another person. Every night he fell asleep with tears in his eyes, because that’s how much he missed his mom, his dad, Greg, and dare he say it, even _Manny._

His bandmates were... another story. Rodrick appreciated everything they’d done for him, which was basically help him kickstart his dream career, however, he felt they were falling behind. Every time he walked into Frank’s house — did he mention one of his bandmates was his ex? — all he smelled was weed. There were juuls, pipes, bongs, and blunts scattered throughout the house all the time. Rodrick wondered if they even did anything while he was gone during the day.

Frank and Rodrick often butted heads, but he couldn’t exactly say he was in the right. Frank hadn’t been an awesome person, but their breakup, well, it hadn’t been a pretty one. He was surprised he hadn’t been killed. Now, every time he looked at his ex, all he felt was a sickening chill that dampened over his entire body.

Which is really why he was in a bar in the middle of fucking Washington D.C. Rodrick hadn’t expected to stay here long, in fact, he wanted to get the hell out of this place as soon as possible, but his bandmates were being real pains in the asses and he wanted a little break from them. Maybe a night fuck would distract him for a while, and a cute guy or girl to flirt with would definitely do the trick. 

The bar he’d stepped into really wasn’t a great one. It was a little small, there was slow and country-based music, and most of the people seemed like they were already intent on hooking up with someone else. Rodrick liked competition and all, but he just wanted a dick in the ass so he could wake up tomorrow feeling fresh. Was that so bad?

Rodrick’s fingers twitched as he laid eyes on a man sitting at the bar. He became slightly erect and exhaled, trying to calm himself down. _Well, looks like I hit the jackpot_ , he smirked, sliding over to the chair next to the man and ordering a cocktail. When he received the drink from the narrow-eyed bartender, he raised the glass with a smile, “Thanks.”

The bartender nodded curtly and turned his attention to the man sitting beside him. Rodrick, being his flirty and imposing self, followed the stare and leaned back, taking in the appearance of the man. He was tall, had a professional black suit tucked over his body with a white tie and undershirt, and black pants and fancy boots to accompany. His face was pinched and there was a look in his hazel eyes that Rodrick couldn’t put his finger on. He was probably being stupid anyway, it’s not like he was good at reading people. The man’s face was eloquently shaped, he noted. The edges and curves really stuck out, and his dimples were ever so noticeable when he quirked his lips. Feathery brown locks that dangled over his hair to accompany, Rodrick was _hooked_.

“Jerry,” the man said in a soft groan, eyes flickering up to the bartender and obviously avoiding Rodrick, “another?”

He looked down at the glass and tilted his head thoughtfully. Rodrick wondered how many drinks the guy had downed. The more drunk, the better, in his opinion. 

The bartender narrowed his eyes into a sort of disappointed glance. “This is your last one,” he grunted, “Seriously, Fox, you gotta stop doing this. Can’t you, like, get kicked out of the job for this?”

 _Fox?!_ Rodrick would’ve laughed if he had the heart to. Unfortunately, he was feeling a little nicer tonight, and making fun of the guy’s name wasn’t a great start to a one night stand. _I’ve heard worse, I guess. It’s a nice-ish name..?_ He wondered how the two knew each other, then realized Fox probably came in to the bar a lot.

The man seemed to notice Rodrick’s stare and ducked with embarrassment. He smirked triumphantly, happy to know that he had such an effect on the man, and listened intently to the conversation. “Yeah, But Skinner’s giving me some time off, after my time in the hospital.”

“Ah. Skinner. I love that guy.” The bartender squinted. “Damn. You get shot? I guess that explains why you were gone for a few months.”

 _Shot?! Oh shit, is this guy a cop? Well, I guess I’m not complaining.._ Rodrick smiled but it came out lopsided when he heard Fox’s response. It held a knowing there, a story that would probably never get told to him, but he was interested either way. _Oh well, I guess this is my shining moment.._

“Let me guess,” he started, sipping the cocktail and leaning forward with a wide smirk. “You’re a copper.”

Fox looked annoyed more than anything and pushed his brows together, lips glistening. “One, no one calls them that anymore, and two, no, I’m an FBI Agent.”

_Oh, shit! This just keeps getting better and better! FBI?! He isn’t just the jackpot, he’s the fuckin’ lottery! The... million dollar lottery! Oh, please be gay, or bisexual, or something that I can fuck, because oh my god I really want to fuck you.._

Realizing he’d spaced out for a moment, Rodrick quickly gathered his wits and smiled, clapping his hands together dramatically. “Oo. Feisty. I love it!” A pause. “I feel blessed. An FBI Agent, talking to _me_? What have I done to deserve this?”

Fox rolled his eyes and stared at the bartender, who smiled and left the two alone.

Rodrick took this as his queue to continue. He completely faced Fox and crossed his legs, tipping his head. “So. I’m Rodrick Heffley, and I’m a drummer in a band. Impressive, I know.”

Fox glanced over Rodrick, contemplating. “Fox Mulder. FBI Agent,” he finally said. Rodrick thought about shaking the dude’s hand, but figured that would be kind of awkward. “And that is just.. awesome for you.”

Rodrick stared the man over and breathed out. He was a harder one to crack. But.. he was sure there was something else there. Deep down — something Fox was here for. Maybe some _one_. So, thinking, he said the first thing that came to mind. If this got him punched in the face, he’d regret it for the rest of his days. “Who’s the chick?”

Fox’s eyes widened in shock, and Rodrick held back a smirk. _Yep. Jackpot._ “What?” he snapped, clearly deflective. 

“It’s quite obvious,” he lied, waving his hand. Rodrick yelped when the cocktail spilled a little. “You’ve got this look. I can see it. Who is she? Unless..” Rodrick smiled as he led himself into the next stage, “it’s a _he_?”

Fox immediately stiffened. “I’m not gay,” he spat.

 _Damnit!_ The world felt like it had come crumbling down on Rodrick in an instant. He poked out his bottom lip in a half sort of pout but it immediately flickered away, no sign of discomfort or disappointment apparent. He should’ve known. Fox was a full hetero. _Fucking dumbass! You’ve gone to all this trouble to woo this dude and he doesn’t even want anything sexual. What a fucking waste of time._ He would’ve slammed his hands down on the table in an act of frustration, but hid it by applying a slight pressure to his cocktail glass with his fingers. 

“Besides,” Fox went on, “it’s none of your business. She isn’t anyone.”

Rodrick forced the smirk to fully cover his cheeks and quirked his eyebrows. “She isn’t anyone, huh? Is that why you mentioned her?” He’d been let down by Fox’s sexuality, but maybe he could still worm his way into his pants. Rodrick had attempted and succeeded at that before. Besides, the conversation was... actually interesting. But it didn’t matter! He really was just looking for sex. He didn’t care about other topics. He didn’t care for small talk or even deep talk. He was — he was a slut. Right? That’s who he was, and that’s how he had to act.

In response, Fox had looked down and breathed out a soft sigh. “I guess,” he said, and his voice was so small Rodrick had to strain to hear it. “She just doesn’t want me anymore, y’know?”

Oh. _Now_ he understood, even if he’d been completely bullshitting the ‘who’s the chick?’ act. “Ahhh,” he breathed out, nodding vigorously. This was another man, gay or not, and he could actually compare with some of this. “The sex was great and she just didn’t want that? Wanted a real relationship? I get it, dude, don’t worry.” He waved his hand, confident in his comfort.

Fox, however, exceeded all expectations. “What? No! We never...” He didn’t necessarily look disgusted, _Not an asexual I guess_ , but just more sad than anything. Maybe Fox was actually a good dude that had been fucked over. Rodrick felt a little bad for him. “We never did _that_ ,” Fox continued, furrowing his brows. “She’s my partner. She’s an FBI Agent too.”

Rodrick’s eyes widened slightly and he sucked his teeth, twiddling his fingers together. “Ooo. This... complicates things..” He hummed, thinking. “What seems to be the problem, then?”

His new FBI friend ran a hand through his hair, audibly groaning. “We were never really together. We just — we were close. We’ve been partners for seven years. And then, well..” Fox trailed off, looking unsure of whether or not he wanted to continue. “Something happened a few months ago, and it drove us apart. After that, she started dating this guy named Colin. And let’s just say he’s a horrible person.”

Rodrick momentarily faltered, because he realized just how deep this conversation was getting. He bit his lip and tried to laugh, but it came out weak and stupid and Fox definitely noticed, just didn’t say anything. Which kinda hurt, because he’d been supportive of his 5 minute friend, but what could he say? Rodrick wouldn’t want to help himself either. He was a piece of shit that just used other people and let himself get used. If anyone was the horrible person, it was _him_. “Damn. You have more drama than I do!” he exclaimed, but his voice didn’t match his words. “I’m sure she’ll see what she’s missing out. Or, maybe you deserve better, y’know?”

Fox froze for about two minutes, unblinking. Rodrick looked around, eyes narrowing. Um. Was he — okay? Suddenly his friend came back to himself and nodded slowly, trembling. “Deserved better,” he whispered, “Yep.”

Rodrick jumped when Fox slammed the glass down on the table and turned, sliding out of the bar. He watched, horribly let down. _No! Don’t let him get away! Come on, Rodrick, go after him! Stop him! Kiss him! Go! Go!_ But his legs wouldn’t fucking move, and he just watched sadly as Fox left the building.

Jerry eventually walked back over and sucked his teeth, glancing at Rodrick with a clouded expression. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, shrugging. “Fox is... an enigma, yeah? He doesn’t like —” Jerry hesitated, “He doesn’t like to talk about himself. I think things get too personal sometimes, and he usually leaves storming out anyways.” He shook his head. “Don’t bother with him. You’ll never get through.”

Rodrick stared back at Jerry, frowning. He was silent for a moment before looking down, placing the glass on the counter. “The check, please,” he murmured, dropping his credit card.

Jerry didn’t protest and brought it over quickly. Rodrick signed it and dropped the pen, nodding. “Thanks.” He propped himself out of the chair and waltzed to the door, smirking at the girl that eyed him. _Maybe not a dick tonight..._ Rodrick decided that he would have a little break outside then come back in and hopefully get what he had come looking for. 

But when he padded out into the cold night, breath glimmering like frost, he stopped and froze with dread. Somewhere near him, maybe in that alley just to the side, grunts and cries were sounded. Rodrick turned his head to the side, biting his lip. _It’s just someone having sex in the alley. It’s nothing. It’s fine._ But when he started to hear kicks and punches, he ran to the alley and stopped at the base.

It was hard to make out, but farther down, he saw a dark, limp shape on the ground with two shadows standing and beating the shit out of them. Rodrick’s eyes widened in shock and he considered the idea of backing away and pretending it never happened, but fucking hell, he couldn’t do that, could he? He’d feel horrible for the rest of his life.

So, making a split second decision, he lurched forward and wrapped his arms around a metal trash can. He clanked the lid to the side and smirked as the two men faced him, dumbfounded. “Pick on someone your own size!” he snarled, and ran forward with the force of twenty bulls. One of the men sprinted towards him, the other tried to jump out of the way, but Rodrick was ready for both. He threw the trash can and felt the cold metal fly against his skin, and watched with satisfaction as it smacked into the first man and caught him on the cheek, spinning his head around and flying to the other one that had tried to leap out of the cross-fire.

Rodrick didn’t even know what to say when it hit the other man clean in the face, tilting him right over to lay face first on the ground. Both men — he — he’d knocked both men out! With a fucking trash can! He smiled and threw his hands in the air, whooping and yelling at the sky. “Take that!” he exclaimed. “Yeah! I’m fuckin’ awesome! You hear that?!”

Oh. Right. There was this other dude laying on the ground, blood splattered around his body. Rodrick immediately dropped to his knees and prodded his side. “Um. Hi. I just saved you. Can you wake up? This alley is kinda scary.” He shot a glance toward the two unconscious men. The victim didn’t stir. “Come on!” With a little more force, Rodrick shoved the dude’s shoulder and scrambled back when an arm snapped out and nearly socked him in the throat. “Hey!”

“Leave.... alone...” The voice was muffled and raspy, but Rodrick found something familiar there. Did he know this guy? He slowly snuck forward, hovering over the guy’s back and quickly pushed him over. He reared back in case of another blow, but nothing came. What _did_ come? A shock wave.

“Holy shit.” Rodrick couldn’t stop the words from flying out of his mouth. “Dude. It’s you. Fox!”

His FBI friend drew an arm over his eyes and curled up, moaning. “No one... calls me that,” he breathed, then squinted up to stare at his savior. “Rodrick...?”

“Hi.” He waved with a smile. “Um, okay, so then what should I call you?”

“Mulder.... call.. me Mulder..” Fox — shit, uh, Mulder — rolled to his side and wheezed out a breath, screwing his eyes shut in pain.

“Okay, well, _Mulder_ , why the fuck were you getting beat to a pulp? I didn’t really schedule my night to come save your ass.”

Mulder shot him his usual glare. Well, at least, Rodrick figured that was the usual. He hadn’t known Mulder for long. Only a few minutes. Shrugging it off, Rodrick held out a hand to help, but his friend didn’t take it. _Stubborn idiot._ “I didn’t mean to, obviously. I — Ugh..” Mulder crawled over the wall and leaned against it, legs shaking below him. 

The sun began to peek over the horizon, spilling light out into the world. Streaks of orange, pink, and yellow spread out across the sky in thin fingers, pulling the darkness away into a sheet of color. Rodrick could see the bruises and cuts all over Mulder’s face, and winced. “Shit. You don’t look good..” He paused, thinking. “I’m sorry about... this.” He waved his hand to the two men. “I know you’re an FBI Agent and all, but this doesn’t seem like some stupid shit. Not a casual fight or attempted kidnapping or anything. Then again, I don’t really know much about your job.”

Mulder smiled a little, and Rodrick nearly beamed at the sight of a positive emotion. “It’s fine. Why are you apologizing, anyway? You’re the one that saved me.” He tilted his head over and raised a brow at the trashcan, then shook his head in a snicker. “Y’know, ‘stupid shit’ is my middle name. Usually I can escape from terrible situations I put myself into — or Scully helps me — but this time was different. Didn’t have a gun or any weapon on me.”

Mulder hesitated and attempted to stand up, but fell back to the ground in a heap. Rodrick watched, pained, and wondered if he had to help. He really just wanted to go home now. Well, home meant Frank’s house, but it was better than nothing. Rodrick groaned. “Fuck dude, you can’t even walk.”

“I’m — I’m _fine_ ,” Mulder insisted, but crumpled back in a heap and held his head in his hands, quiet. He suddenly lashed out at the air. “Fuck!”

Rodrick stiffened and wondered for a minute if the guy was crazy. Then again, he didn’t _seem_ to be. But.. well, the symptoms didn’t lie.. 

“I know who it was,” Mulder finally croaked out, bringing his knees to his chest. “I — I told you about my partner’s shitty boyfriend, right? Colin? He — I, I beat him up about two months ago, because I saw him cheating on her with these two other women. I was so angry. He didn’t threaten to do anything, but this had to he him. It _had_ to be. There’s no other explanation.”

Rodrick frowned and clenched his fingers, feeling angry about Colin. Thanks to him, he now had to help Mulder get home and probably baby him for the rest of the day. Great. Just what he needed! 

“You know what?” he sighed. “I can’t do it. I’ll feel guilty if I walk away knowing I left you here all alone.” Rodrick rubbed his eyes and strolled forward, standing over Mulder with an annoyed expression. “You’re coming with me, babe.”


	3. World Record

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodrick helps Mulder home, and both men learn a thing or two from each other on the way there.

_“Babe_?” Mulder snickered. Hearing those words had been enough of a shock, but the nickname to come with it nearly blindsided him. “Interesting choice of words,” he noted.

The sarcasm was just to distract Mulder from the horrible pain he was in. The men had not only knocked him out, but had done a number on him. Mulder could feel bruises and cuts swelling along his face and neck, and the pulsing beneath his skin didn’t help at all. There was blood trickling down his body and sticking to his shirt in clumps, which was fucking disgusting by the way, and his legs hurt so badly he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to live. 

_Fucking Colin_ , he hissed in his head, _I know what I did to you was bad, but... really? This? Trying to kill me? Or was it a threat that went too far? Then again, maybe it didn’t go too far, and they just really wanted to beat me as far as they could._ He slid his gaze over to the two unconscious men and found it a little amusing that they’d been so easily knocked out by a trashcan. That Rodrick had _thrown_ , by the way. Not Mulder’s usual idea of defense, but it worked well enough, didn’t it?

With no response to his echo, Mulder grunted and wiped his dirty hands down his face, pulling on his brown hair. “I just need to get home. After that I’ll be fine.” A pause, then a grimace. “I can, err, limp there. How far is it?” The last part was mostly to himself, but he looked back up at his friend anyway.

“You’re just gonna _limp_ home? Really? I’m not trying to make you feel more stupid, but guess what? You are acting stupid.” Rodrick snorted and crossed his arms, glaring down at Mulder. 

“I can limp just fine,” he snarked back. Then Mulder shook out a breath and clutched the wall as he stood, fingers sliding over the bricks and running scrapes down his hands. He winced but felt his heart flicker happily when he realized he could stand. Not walk, though, just stand. 

Rodrick grumbled and padded over to Mulder, squinting. “Just accept that you need my help, okay? I really need to head back and go lay down, and I know if I leave you, you could either A, get jumped again, or B, pass out before you make it home. Just let me do this and be on my way.” A beat of silence as Mulder hesitated. “Just lean on me and I can get you into the passenger’s seat.”

Mulder considered his options and eventually tipped his head forward. “Fine,” he mumbled, shame washing through him. He didn’t want to accept help, but knew that Rodrick was right. He just hated the feeling of wasting other people’s time. He was worthless — no one could help him. Besides, Mulder wasn’t sure he disliked the idea of getting jumped again. Maybe he’d finally die.

However, those dark brown eyes crumbled Mulder into a million pieces and he finally allowed himself to lean against Rodrick’s shoulder, body aching as his feet slowly shuffled toward the car. He craned his head up to the sky and realized it was already morning. _Shit. Scully’s gonna kill me if I don’t come to work today, but.. she’ll kill me extra if she sees what I look like._ He winced and nearly tripped over his friend’s shoes, but Rodrick seemed to be leading him well enough.

Speaking of Rodrick, it looked like he wasn’t done making jokes. “So, you wanna just go home? Have any shopping to do? Maybe drop something off at your agency?” He wrapped an arm around Mulder and he shivered at the touch, but accepted it nonetheless.

Mulder hummed. “Mm. Sure.” He smiled a little, happy to at least have _someone_ to joke with. Scully was always so serious. Rodrick... not so much. “I need to go to the bank, maybe hit the road to Las Vegas. You know, the usual stuff I do.”

Rodrick didn’t respond because he was too busy admiring his van, which they had just staggered up to. It was in rough shape, based on the scrapes and dents along the white frame, but that wasn’t what stood out the most. Along the side were faded, spray painted black words that read something Mulder didn’t even want to contemplate.

Looks like Rodrick did for him. “Löded Diper,” he muttered proudly to himself, smirking. They didn’t have much more time to look at it, because Rodrick was already leading Mulder over to the passenger side, fishing in his pockets for his keys. He let out a chuckle of victory when he found them, and quickly threw the door open. Before he could protest, Rodrick placed his hands on Mulder’s hips and guided his ass into the seat. “There! Not so hard, right?” He purred, shutting the door and skipping to the driver’s seat.

Mulder felt like he’d been burned by the touch, and wished he could’ve clambered inside himself, but obviously it was too late for that now. All he did was roll his eyes and lean back into the plump chair, muttering, “Really?”

Rodrick eagerly climbed inside and slammed the door beside him, which squeaked as he did so. Furrowing his brows and sticking his tongue out, Rodrick expertly started the van and it roared to life. He hummed the tune to some song Mulder didn’t have the energy to decipher. “Really what?” he snickered, “That I safely guided you to the passenger’s seat? Next time I’ll remember not to do that.”

“Well, thanks, I guess. You’re turning me gayer and gayer by the second.”

Rodrick flashed a shit-eating grin. “Oh, well I guess my job is almost complete!” he flirted, “But you aren’t gay until I kiss you! When will I do that I wonder? Who knows, it will be when you least expect it. Then, you will finally be gay, my friend!”

Mulder shrugged and laid back, snorting. “Let’s hope you don’t, I’ll kick your ass.”

A pause. “Oh, and something you still haven’t told me, where’s your house? Or apartment?”

“2630 Hegal Place,” he replied, “Alexandria. Not the best neighborhood, but hey, it’s home.”

Rodrick hummed in response and gripped the steering wheel, pulling away from the curb and heading to Mulder’s apartment. “Hitting up Las Vegas?” Rodrick said, which was _so_ late that it made Mulder smile. “I would offer to go with you, but I’ve already been there and done that.” The slight tip of the van as it spluttered along the street pained Mulder a little, but he could take it. Rodrick glanced over at him, appearing concerned for his well-being.

Mulder ignored the glance and tilted his head, watching the cars head on the road beside them, the city waking up. “Yeah, Las Vegas is a pretty cool place,” he said idly, “especially when you’re hunting monsters. Also, nice band name.”

“Monsters? What are you hunting, a wendigo?” Rodrick grinned. “What? I named it myself, back when I was sixteen. And suuuure. I know you wanna laugh at it. Despite our shitty and misspelled name, we actually have okay music. My bandmates are horrible people, but if you overlook all that, and just listen to the music, it’s pretty good for HEAVY METAL!”

He cocked a brow before realizing his friend had asked about his profession. Mulder bit his lip thoughtfully. Las Vegas? “Hmmm. Wendigos are mostly associated with Native American culture, and last time I went anywhere close to _that_ we only found a werewolf. And then the other time when I nearly got blown up, but that’s bedsides the point. I don’t think I’ve encountered a wendigo, but still have cases stacked up on my desk.”

Rodrick curiously cast a glance Mulder’s way. “Huh, weird. I mean, werewolves are cool I guess, but I’ve seen some wendigo pictures and — damn, do they look terrifying!”

“True, but werewolves can be a pain in the ass. You never know who it is, so it’s harder to find who’s turning into one.” A shrug. “From my experience, most creatures portrayed as terrifying really aren’t. So if wendigos are real, which I’m sure they are, they’re probably not as scary as they seem. _Probably_.”

“Interesting,” Rodrick smiled, referencing the wendigos, “I guess so. Never knew they were real until now. Thanks for the info. Then again, _probably_ isn’t a confirmed answer, Mulder~”

He was about to reply but grunted when Rodrick leaned over him and opened the glove box, pulling out a box of baby wipes and quickly grabbing one as the light turned green. He used one hand to drive and leaned up to look in the rearview mirror, furiously wiping the eyeliner off. “Sorry, I had to grab that real quick. So if you smell like my manly musk, hopefully no hard feelings,” Rodrick quipped. 

“None at all,” Mulder noted, joking. “In fact, it totally turns me on.” He was surprised he was flirting, because it really was something he never did anymore.

“I’m glad you are turned on and all, really, it’s an honor,” Rodrick placed a hand on his chest in mock surprise and flattery, “but let’s not do it in my van, okay? I mean, you could give me a blow, but I don’t think the stoplight will stay long enough for it~”

“Pfft. A blow? You wish.” Mulder smirked. “Actually, I think I’m gonna try to get into some type of World Record’s book. You know, ‘Longest Time Span of Not Having Sex.’ Think I can do it?”

Rodrick burst into a fit of laughter. “Dude! Really? I don’t know, maybe ya can, though..” He winked suggestively at Mulder, “We can still make out, right, babe?”

“I’m sure I can, I’m probably already in the lead, with my lucky number and all!” He snorted. “And who knows, we could some day. But probably not.” He wasn’t gay. That was something he definitely knew, at least.

“Oh, I sure hope we do. It will be something worth our lonely whiles, huh? And I promise we will only make out. But if I get grabby, I apologize beforehand!”

There was a beat of comfortable silence as Rodrick continued driving. They eventually pulled on the street and Mulder pointed to his apartment. “There it — Oh, shit, fuck me!” God, just his luck, Scully’s car was parked out front! She was here. Of fucking course. _I guess I couldn’t expect her to just stay away. No, that’s not it, she doesn’t care.. she probably just came to check on me because of my recent absence from work. If I don’t even have a gun, what’s the point of going? Paperwork is for losers._ Mulder sighed and shook his head. “My partner is here and is also probably freaking out since I’m not home. So that’s just great.”

Rodrick frowned and Mulder ran a hand through his hair stressfully, a sigh escaping his lips. “Okay, well, you don’t have to help me out of the van if you don’t want to. Plus, you probably don’t want to hear Scully snap at me.” He clicked open the door handle and looked over at Rodrick, smiling softly. It looked like... this was where they were going to part ways.. “Thanks for everything, you know. I really appreciate it. I owe my life to you.”

“Mulder, you don’t owe me shit, okay? I won’t even see you after this. So we’re all good.” Rodrick smiled, but Mulder couldn’t find it inside himself to return the expression. He was a little sad that he was leaving Rodrick now. He’d actually grown used to company. And company was a very nice thing to have. Mulder nodded sadly and took a step out of the car, but immediately his legs buckled underneath him and he fell, crying out in pain. _Fuck!_ God, did he have to do this again? He knew Rodrick was ready to leave, and he wanted to leave too, and now they were just gonna keep seeing each other, and fucking hell this meant that Rodrick could get mixed up with his horrible shitty life if he walked him to the door and — Mulder just really, really didn’t want that. His problems were a bottomless pit. It would be best if no one tried to understand him.

Rodrick immediately unbuckled himself and ran out of the van, palming the door shut. He stood next to Mulder and reached a hand out, shaking his head. “I’m starting to feel like I’m your boyfriend. I suggest you start to learn to walk soon. Whatever shall you do without me?” Rodrick smirked.

Mulder grunted and took his friend’s hand, pushing himself up and leaning on Rodrick’s shoulder once again, who was now rambling on- “If you need help, just ask, okay? Like, if this position is hurting you or whatever, let me know..?”

“Don’t think I’d be able to do anything without you,” he finally breathed out, eyes light. “It’s fine though. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

They made it to the door and Mulder pulled out his key, but when he fiddled with the handle he found it was unlocked. He readied himself for the upcoming ten minutes of mommy and opened the door, peering inside. It wasn’t as dark as usual, because Scully had probably opened up the blinds, but that meant she was still here. _Of course she’s here, her car is parked outside.._

He glanced at Rodrick and smiled. _Welp, here we go. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into._

“Mulder?!”


	4. Crippled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scully: off limits  
> Mulder: gay?  
> Colin: cunt

Mulder’s lady friend was fucking scary.

What Rodrick had pictured as Scully was — well, different. For starters, she was small in size, petite, and had a soft, round face. Her hair was curled and a bright, blinding ginger that flowed to her shoulders. Akin to Mulder, she was wearing a black dressy overcoat and dark pants, except for boots she had low heels. Oh, also, her eyes were such an ocean blue that Rodrick nearly had to look away.

Mulder cringed when his name was exclaimed and shot a glance to Rodrick, who was idly scratching the back of his head. What the hell did he do? Did he _say_? He wasn’t equipped for these kinds of situations! 

“Who are you?” Scully stared straight at Rodrick and crossed her arms, eyes narrowed. He realized it was a demand, not a question.

“Whoa — I’m Rodrick Heffley.” He threw his hands up, surrendering. “I don’t mean to be any trouble. Just dropping off the dumbass who got hurt.”

Scully squinted at him but eventually turned away, gripping Mulder’s arm and nearly dragging him inside. Rodrick puffed out a breath of air when the weight was taken off his shoulder, and grunted when he realized he probably needed to go inside. _Shit. I just want to go home. Getting attached, which I already am, isn’t something that’s gonna be good for any of us. The sooner I leave, the sooner all of this mess will be over. Meeting him was a mistake. Don’t wanna fuck up his life._ But Rodrick was polite enough to step inside anyway, pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind.

“My god, what the hell happened to you?” Scully scrunched her nose up at the blood sticking to Mulder’s body, casting a curious glance toward Rodrick. “Help him to the couch, will you?”

He rolled his eyes. “No problem, I’ve been helping him all night anyway,” he mumbled under his breath, wrapping an arm around Mulder’s waist and heaving him over to the couch. “Whoop. There you go.” He shot a glance at the glowing fish tank and the layout of his new friend’s apartment. It was small, but homey enough. He liked it. 

_Stop thinking like that!_ he hissed in his head, _You’re leaving after this, and you won’t ever come back. So don’t even bother admiring the dump, just get in and out of here._ He frowned.

Mulder sighed and rubbed his face, looking over at Rodrick. “Well, that’s Scully. Sorry about all this, by the way. You probably need to get together with your band, practice for your gig.. now I really owe you.” 

Rodrick exhaled and ran a hand through his wild black hair, dark eyes narrowing. He had a weird feeling about leaving. He knew Mulder was in Scully’s care now, and he knew he wasn’t needed here anymore, but there was something inside of him telling him not to leave. Screaming at him, in fact! But Rodrick be damned, he was _stubborn_. Mulder was fine. He’d saved him once, his friend — this dude — didn’t need his help. 

“It’s fine, I don’t care,” he finally said, “My bandmates don’t need me as badly as you do right now, anyways.” He forced a sloppy grin to play on his lips and reassured Mulder as much as he could. Rodrick hated that he apologized so much. 

“Well, I hope so..” Mulder trailed off, biting his lip. “I don’t want to make you late.” His hazel eyes flickered over to Scully rushing into the living room, gently passing by Rodrick and laying her first aid kit on the table.

He felt really awkward here. There was definitely unspoken tension between Mulder and Scully, and to be frank, Rodrick didn’t want to get in the middle of it. He thought about making a smart, jackass quip before leaving, but when he saw the look in Mulder’s eyes, he realized that he would _never_ let himself flirt with Scully, even if it was harmless banter. So, backing away a few steps, he made his departure. “It was nice getting wrapped up in your night life, friend, and uh —” A pause, “— Scully, But I suppose I’m not needed, so have fun.” 

He turned to the front door and his hand hovered over the doorknob, right there, so close...! And then Scully asked in a threatening growl, “Hey! How did he get hurt? I don’t trust him to tell me the truth, so it’d be nice if you could fill me in on what happened last night.” And Rodrick nearly kicked the floor in frustration because _he was right there!_ He didn’t want to stay here! He didn’t _have_ to stay here! But... god, when he turned back and saw how uncomfortable and stressed and _broken_ Mulder looked, he couldn’t help himself.

Attempting to lighten the mood, Mulder snorted. “I’m offended you wouldn’t believe me! Isn’t that the only thing we look for? The truth?” She responded by harshly dabbing his face with a pad dipped in hydrogen peroxide. 

Rodrick sighed and padded back over, standing next to Mulder and watching Scully glare at her partner. “I don’t know what happened exactly,” he finally shrugged, rolling back and forth on his heels. They were about to have a fucking cat fight and he wasn’t ready to be here for it. “I met him outside of the bar and we said hello and whatnot.”

Scully shook her head in disappointment. “You know, I was waiting on you for an _hour_ , Mulder. And you were out _drinking_? Seriously?” She breathed out, clearly frustrated. “Who attacked you?”

Mulder’s eyes widened and he clenched his fingers, flicking his head over to Rodrick. _Oh, shit, I forgot, he doesn’t want her to know._ With no hesitation, Rodrick said, “I walked out of the bar and heard a scuffle in the alley. There were these two guys beating up Mulder so I threw a trash can at them..” He laughed, heat pooling into his cheeks, trying not to feel embarrassed in front of Scully. She seemed really professional and scary. “I knocked them out, and when I ran over, it looked like Mulder had been kicked and punched a lot.” He worriedly glanced at his new friend, observing the cuts and purple bruises. “The guy was out of it for a bit, but eventually snapped out of it. I helped him to my van and drove him here.” 

Mulder held his breath and Rodrick smoothly continued. “Dunno who did it, though, or why the fuck they would. I mean, who would mess with an FBI Agent?” He smirked and felt his heart flutter at the relieved breath Mulder blew out. _I did that_ , he reminded himself, _I saved the day. I made things better!_

“So some guys jumped you and we have no idea who did it.” She rolled her eyes when Mulder flinched back and hissed when she ran the cotton pad over a particularly deep cut. Rodrick smirked. _Aww. Poor baby!_ “You probably need to go to a hospital.”

“I’m not going to a hospital,” Mulder quickly replied, screwing his eyes shut for a moment. 

Scully grunted. “You need a doctor.”

“I’m looking at one.”

She puffed a strand of ginger hair out of her face and moved on to treating his neck, which also had a few scrapes. Not too bad, though. “You didn’t bring your car?”

“Um. No, I ran there.”

“Mulder, I’m gonna be honest, that was real stupid. No wonder you got attacked!” She looked at his hip then raised her gaze back to his. “You don’t have your gun anymore. You can’t just go and..” Scully waved her hand. “Do crazy stuff.”

He briefly wondered why Mulder didn’t have his gun, but quickly bit his tongue so he wouldn’t ask. It didn’t matter anyway, did it? He wasn’t sticking around much longer, hopefully.

“I do crazy stuff all the time, Scully, c’mon.”

“Oh, whatever. I was just hoping you’d keep your antics strictly to cases.”

“No can-do, sorry.”

Rodrick smirked and felt amused at the back and forth conversation between the two lovebirds, _Or lack thereof_ , but reminded himself that he needed to get going. 

It appeared as if Scully noticed his pacing, so she tilted her head over to him in a casual manner. “Well, thanks then.” She resumed padding his cheek.

Mulder fully turned to Rodrick though, squinting from the pain. “It was nice of you saving my ass, Rodrick,” he smiled, “but... if I don’t see you again, I guess this is goodbye. It was nice to meet you.”

“No problem, my dude!” Rodrick exclaimed, clapping his hands together. Thank _god_ , he could leave now! “See ya whenever.” With that, he whirled around and happily strolled over to the door, lost in thought for a moment. Fox Mulder was truly an interesting guy, and Rodrick would make sure to try and remember the FBI Agent before he left this shit show of a city. Of course, that was pretty far-fetched in and of itself. He was a little upset that he wasn’t gonna sneak in that kiss, but oh well, people came and went just like they were meant to.

Smirking smugly, Rodrick threw open the door and readied himself to hop off to his van, but immediately stopped in his tracks. His dark eyes fell on some dude sitting in a wheelchair, glaring up at him with green eyes and a mess of raven-colored hair. It took him a moment to realize he was being blocked, so tried, “Um, excuse me?” He leaned his head up to the ceiling in annoyance, clenching his fists. What did the world have against him today?!

As politely as he could, Rodrick sidestepped to the door and waved inside the house. “Sorry, Mulder, I’ll leave right after this guy moves.” His words were a little passive aggressive, just because he was so fucking irritated, but he appeared nice enough anyway.

Suddenly everyone in the room seemed interested with each other, and Rodrick couldn’t help the uneasiness creeping up his spine. “Colin?” Scully asked, eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”

 _Colin..._ The name rang in Rodrick’s ears but he couldn’t put his finger on the memory. Where had he heard this before? He twisted his head over to where Mulder sat on the couch and was taken aback by that horrified and haunted look. Suddenly, it all clicked in his messy mind. He might’ve been withdrawing, but shit, he was still a little smart! _Oh fuck! This is the guy Mulder beat up for Scully! I think?_ Based on the glare Colin was directing at Mulder, Rodrick knew he was remembering correctly. He stiffened even more. _And... this also means this dumbass was the one who sent those guys to jump Mulder.._

And then Colin has the audacity to glare at _Rodrick_. What the fuck was up with this cripple and his attitude?

“Well, after you didn’t call me back when you _said_ you would,” Colin snapped harshly, “I thought something might be wrong. I was coming here to make sure you were okay.”

Rodrick nearly snorted. _And what were you gonna do, dumb fuck? Beat someone up for your girl? Hate to break it to you, but.._ He eyed the cast around Colin’s leg and arm, and noticed the padding sticking up through his shirt around his waist and lungs. _Mulder really did a number on him.._ He glanced back at his new friend and saw the nervousness in his posture, and suddenly a surge of protectiveness flowed through his body. Colin might suck up to Scully like a little bitch, but Rodrick wasn’t that easily manipulated. At least, he didn’t think so, at least not concerning Mulder. Who he’d only known for one night...

Shaking his head, Rodrick smirked and strolled back over to where Mulder was, sitting next to him on the couch. His friend eyed him warily and curiously, and Rodrick ignored the arguing back and forth from Scully and the cripple. “Looks like your guard dog can’t leave until he does,” he whispered, jerking his head back toward Colin with a smile. 

“Shit,” Mulder breathed, “I forgot you knew. I’m sorry...” He laughed at Rodrick’s hard glare, basically forcing him to stop apologizing. “At least you remembered, I was about to kill myself being in here with these two alone.” 

“You’re not alone, babe, I’m right here~” Rodrick winked, not looking at the idiot even though he could feel Colin’s stupid glare. He so badly wanted to snap _Do you have a staring problem?_ but figured that wasn’t the best idea. “Besides, you seemed worried, and what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t protect you from that pig?”

Mulder smiled again, and Rodrick swore his heart leapt with every grin his FBI friend showed. Sober Mulder was actually nice to be around. “It’s awkward,” he finally continued, scratching his head with a bruised arm, “both of them know I beat the shit out of Colin, and him being here makes it worse. So thanks for coming back.”

Rodrick was confused and his eyes widened slightly. “What? Scully _knows_ you beat Colin’s ass? Huh. I thought you didn’t tell her..” He chuckled softly, feeling out of the loop.

“I didn’t,” Mulder shook his head, “Colin told her, when he was in the hospital.” _Tattle tale_. 

Suddenly his new friend looked like he was about to have an anxiety attack, and seeing Mulder panic made him panic! “Dude, what’s wrong? Do you need like... help or something?” He worriedly looked over his wounds, wondering if Scully had missed any and if Mulder was maybe in pain or something. Or maybe he was just scared of Colin. Jesus, he didn’t even know Mulder well, and he already hated Colin! Someone he hadn’t ever met before this!

Rodrick sighed and looked down at his dirty and disheveled clothes. He recognized dried blood on his hands and quickly tried to wipe his palms down his black shirt, but nothing came off. He probably looked and smelled disgusting. Rodrick ran a hand through his hair to try and make himself look more presentable, but it was useless. He couldn’t even take care of himself, and yet here he was, trying to take care of an FBI Agent. Well, at least he could convince himself to stay with that surprise kiss.

Mulder snapped out of his trance and blinked at Rodrick. “Huh?” he said dumbly. “Oh. No, no, it’s fine, just worrying over nothing..” Rodrick frowned, wishing he could open up Mulder’s head and look inside for the answers he was looking for.

“Oh... yeah, okay.” Rodrick nodded. “You made me think that something was wrong. Don’t do that shit man, I’ll legit flip out!” 

Before Mulder could respond, Colin had wheeled himself over to the tank, squinting. “Fish?” he scoffed. “I would’ve gone for something a little more active. You know, like a dog.”

Scully turned away momentarily and Mulder mouthed the words ‘Fuck you’ to Colin, which only resulted in another harsh and fiery scowl.

Rodrick groaned audibly when the pig opened his mouth again. He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Eh, dogs are work. Mulder is probably too busy with work to take care of a dog that needs daily activity. Which is good,” he added softly, smiling and looking over at his friend, “it means you’re smart.” He nearly chuckled at the thought of Sweetie, Jesus, those had been horrible days. But he was intent on defending Mulder and helping him with Colin. He didn’t deserve to be scared of some cripple. 

“When did Mulder get a guard dog?” Colin snorted, looking at both of them with hate-filled eyes.

God, Rodrick wanted to go up and choke Colin’s lights out. He was such a fucking pain. How did Mulder’s girl not see that? “I don’t know, but he doesn’t need one. I mean.. look at you, dude. Looks like someone got you pretty good without needing help. So step off his case,” he said coolly. Even if Mulder didn’t want to bring up what he’d done, Rodrick was more than happy to give Colin a recap on what had happened.

He smirked, dark eyes gleaming with interest and excitement, before he walked over to the sink and turned the faucet on. Rodrick wrung his hands together with soap and washed the blood off of his sunkissed skin, pausing for a moment. If Colin had sent his guys on Mulder, did that mean he could do the same to Rodrick? He shook his head, knowing Mulder would probably tell him if he was in danger. He didn’t doubt his friend yet. Besides... it felt nice to have someone to defend again. He hadn’t been nice to Greg in high school, but was always happy to secretly kick some ass (verbally) if his little brother needed it.

Rodrick frowned, thinking about how long he’d been gone. What, two years? He still felt guilty, being away from his family, and every day it felt like a hole was eating his heart away, but figured he could visit them soon enough. Maybe if he actually made some more money from these gigs that his bandmates didn’t use on drugs and hookers, then he could finally go back home.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Mulder stated that he was going to change, and Rodrick couldn’t exactly blame him. The guy was covered in blood. His friend shoved himself into a room behind the couch and it looked filled with cardboard boxes and random shit, but he just shrugged internally. Wasn’t his problem. Rodrick did feel a little awkward here alone with Scully and Colin though, so used up the time and thread of silence to dry off his hands and arms.

Mulder eventually came barging out of the room and breathed out. He had a new, crisp suit on, and seemed to be wearing the same thing as before, just clean. Scully’s brows raised at the sight. “Mulder, you can’t possibly be thinking of going to work!”

 _Wow, who is this guy? A machine?_ It wouldn’t have been his choice to go to work after getting beaten up, but whatever, it wasn’t his problem. He felt a little disappointed now. This probably meant he had to leave, and also meant he most likely wouldn’t see Mulder ever again. It was a big city, and it’s not like he would remember the guy’s address. That would be weird. 

“Huh?” Mulder answered Scully, looking in the mirror next to the door and curling up his feathery hair, tucking in his tie. “Course I am,” he said simply, “we’ve got cases stacked up to the ceiling. Besides, I have more important things to do than lay around all day.” Mulder motioned toward the couch and Rodrick realized he must not have a bed. _What the fuck? Who doesn’t have a bed?_

“You were just beat to a pulp,” Scully argued, crossing her arms. “You didn’t go to a hospital, so _I’m_ your doctor. I’m advising you to stay here, or I’m going to tell Skinner to put you on medical leave.” Colin watched, smirking, but his gaze had averted to Rodrick. He frowned, uncomfortable. Why was the dumbass smiling like that?

Mulder, however, didn’t seem concerned and just rolled his hazel eyes. “I’m going to work, Scully, Skinner wants me there anyway.”

“No, Mulder.”

“Yes, Mulder.”

Scully finally sighed, threading a hand through her bright hair, clearly annoyed. “Fine. But you’re only doing desk work. No going out to crime scenes, no meeting up with witnesses, no doing crazy shit—”

“Crazy shit? Since when do I do crazy shit?” Mulder’s bottom lip dropped down in a mock pout.

“Do I need to remind you?” she countered, cocking a brow. “But, like I said, you’ll only be staying in the Bureau. I’ll make sure of that.”

“You can try, woman,” Mulder joked back, throwing finger guns. Scully snorted and Colin had a look of ‘I’m going to fucking murder you’ in his eyes.

When a silence filled the room Rodrick straightened up. _Mulder’s leaving for work, I guess, so that probably means I should get out of here.._ He didn’t shake off Colin’s smirk directed at him and walked forward, smiling. “Whelp, that’s the sound of me finally leaving. Nice meeting you, Mulder, our talks were great, ten out of ten,” Rodrick teased. He didn’t miss the sad look his friend had, and nearly crumbled at the sight. But he knew this was for the better. 

He glanced at the other two people, faking a grin. “Nice to meet you Scully, and you, guy in a wheelchair, Colin Mcwhatever—” A growl, “—Have fun at work.”

“Alright, Rodrick,” Mulder nodded, “it was nice meeting you, too. Maybe we’ll see each other again sometime. Looks like we just can’t get away from each other.” He winked and glanced at Scully.

“Oh, I shall try to stay away!” He smirked. “If I hear you getting killed in some alley, maybe I’ll just drive away this time.” He turned away when his phone buzzed in his pocket and he picked up the phone, staring at the number. “Shit.”

She pursed her lips, thinking. “It was nice to meet you,” she finally said. “Thanks for the help.” Colin didn’t say anything, thank god, and Rodrick ignored the cold look in his lime eyes.

“You okay?” Mulder questioned, his mother hen taking over. Rodrick would’ve smiled if not for his growing anxiety.

“Oh, yeah, fine,” he waved off, smiling in response to Scully. “Just my dumb bandmates calling. Trying to see where I am, probably.” _Or to come and kick my ass for forgetting about them._ Rodrick waved a hand. “Whelp, bye.”

He quickly rushed out of the door and shut it behind him, answering the call and breathing in. He could already hear yelling on the other side. Yup, they wanted him dead already. “What the fuck do you guys want?” he finally asked lazily, trying to act confident. _It’s my band, I created it. They can’t do shit!_

“Don’t snap at me, you dumbass!” a heavy voice on the other line growled. _Frank_. “Where the fuck are you?! You aren’t in your room, so where?”

Ah, his ex... possessive as ever. Rodrick sneered as he walked up to his van, slinging the door open and hopping inside. “For one, none of your business, two, why the hell are you in my room?”

“We stole your key.”

Of fucking _course_. “You pieces of shit,” he hissed. “I should just fire—”

“Heffley, you are such a _joke_!” A sadistic laugh came from Frank and Rodrick cringed. He hated that sound. It reminded him of back when they’d broken up. Not good times. “If you ever grew the balls to kick us out, this stupid band would be nothing except some lonely drummer who’s a complete dumbass!”

Ouch. Rodrick fished through his pockets for the keys. “Whatever.” He felt so weak. What else could he even say? Either way, they would be pissed at him. It’s like he didn’t even own his fucking band! And when he couldn’t find his keys, he hissed in frustration and kicked the door in anger. “Where are they?!”

Fuck, more laughs. Now they were all listening, huh? “Aww. Did Rodrick lose his keys? What a fuck up!” Frank laughed and Rodrick felt his heart crumple inside his chest. This is the kind of treatment he got from helping someone, and it just wasn’t fair! He wished he’d just gone back inside and fucked that girl that was staring at him. Mulder probably would’ve been fine! Someone else would’ve found him and brought him back home... those guys wouldn’t have killed him.. right?

Rodrick just grunted into the mic and finally found his keys, starting the engine and pushing the gear. _Tell them off! It’s your room! Get the fuck out of here! What are you doing?! You deserve better!_ God, that voice sounded like his fucking mother. “Fuck off!” is all he could say, and he finally hung up the phone with a heaving breath, throwing it into the passenger’s seat. Fuck!

He was about to drive off before he heard a ding come from his phone. What now?! He hissed and picked the damn thing up, squinting at the screen. What the hell— ?

_**INCOMING TEXT MESSAGE:** _

_Mom : Gregory had a great day yesterday! Though it wasn’t the same without you! Don’t forget to eat and wash yourself!_

Rodrick still didn’t know how his mom could even love him after all the shit he’d put his family through. Leaving, coming back, leaving again and not returning for two years.. And it’s not like he’d said the nicest things when running out the door. Calling your mom a bitch isn’t an awesome thing to do. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. At least Greg had an awesome birthday. It was better he wasn’t there, ruining everything.

From the other texts, it looked like Greg had gotten a new phone, but Rodrick hadn’t ever bothered to message him. He probably didn’t want to talk to him. Other texts from his mom just mentioned how Greg was doing, reminding Rodrick to take care of himself, sometimes even complaining about Manny. He smiled, wishing he could make it all better. But he never could, he was too scared. Too much of a coward. He finally clicked his phone off and threw it back in the seat, pulling out from the side of the road without looking back.

He turned the radio up as high as it would go and sang loudly. “It was the fourth of July~!” He slid across the curbs and ran a few red lights. Those messages had made him feel better, along with taking care of Mulder. Then again, that wasn’t his problem anymore. He was done with all of that. He had a job to do, a band to fire, and money to make. He also wanted to finally have a nice night without being back with Mulder. He loved the guy, but he still needed that fuck. 

Rodrick eventually made it back to Frank’s house, or the ‘band’s house,’ and idly strolled up to the door. He walked inside and yawned, about to look around for his bandmates, but yelped when strong hands grabbed his shirt and shoved him against the wall. “Dude, what the fuck?!” he spat, pushing Frank away. God, his ex was so fucking dramatic. “Don’t ever fucking grab me, dude. I don’t do that shit.”

Frank sneered at him, and it sort of reminded Rodrick of Colin. Except a lot scarier. “Whatever, Heffley.” Rodrick looked around the living room and spotted the blunts laying around, burning down to their ends. His bandmates were just lazing around, one asleep. He felt a little nervous, but more angry than anything. They weren’t even practicing!

“Soooo. Retard.” Rodrick flicked his head toward Frank and narrowed his eyes. He wished his ex’s name wasn’t his dad’s name. It was fucking annoying and he hated it. His dad was a way better man. “Where the fuck were you? I suggest you give a good explanation, because if you don’t, some uh..” Frank laughed darkly. “Accidents might happen to your face.” His ex moved forward and forcefully held Rodrick’s chin, pulling him closer, but Rodrick shoved him away and growled. He couldn’t be treated like this! He was the heart of this fucking band! It was time he started acting like it!

“Don’t touch me, asshat! I’m the creator of this band, and you know what? Fuck you guys.” His bandmates lifted their heads, curious as they slowly rose from their naps or daydreaming on the couches. “All you guys do is smoke and fuck like animals! You two follow Frank like you’re his minions!” Rodrick scowled, fists clenching at his sides. “I’m better then you losers. You’re fired. That’s just rock and roll, dudes.” He almost smiled at his words, thinking back to the night Greg had sacrificed his popularity to play with Löded Diper. Just like with Billy, he had the confidence to kick them out now. Helping Mulder had helped him in turn. If he could take care of an FBI Agent, he could fucking take care of himself!

He felt prideful and excited when his _former_ bandmates stared at him, shocked. Rodrick snorted. “Oooh! Are you little bitches gonna cry? Man, aren’t you all a bunch of babies!” He laughed, and finally felt like _he_ was in control again. It felt good. It felt right. For once, he wasn’t scared. What could they do that they hadn’t already done, anyway?

Then his nerves spiked when Frank forced out a low and dangerous chuckle, taking a step forward. The other two stood up as well, slowly circling around Rodrick. He felt panic. _Don’t show them, don’t show them fear, don’t show them anything!_

But now they had reasons to kick his ass, and based on their angry looks, Rodrick knew something bad was about to happen. Frank roughly held Rodrick’s shoulders and looked down at him darkly. “Oh, I see how it is. Listen you bitch, I’m gonna give you two choices, since I’m nice like that.” Rodrick flinched away from the touch and tried to stand his ground, but fuck, he was scared. He was fucking _terrified_. Snickers rose around him when one of his bandmates shoved him back into the middle of the circle. “Here are your choices—”

“Hah! F-Fuck you Frank!” Rodrick spluttered, cursing himself for stuttering like a stupid little bitch. Maybe his ex was right, but Rodrick would never admit it. “Get out of my face, asshole! Your breath stinks! What did you eat? Some of your own bullshit?” He felt a surge of pride but it was immediately blown away when a fist came down and nearly blew his jaw out of its fucking socket. He staggered back, eyes wide in shock. 

“Useless cunt!” Frank snarled, his bandmates laughing once more. His ex kicked him in the back and Rodrick yelped, legs crumpling below him, chest hitting the carpeted floor. Surely — surely they weren’t going to kill him, right?! He rolled to the side when a foot nearly collided with his face and he held onto the boot, pushing Brandon to the ground. Horror spilled like ice into his veins when his bandmate hit the side of the table, a grunt leaving his lips as he painfully landed. 

“You little piece of _shit_!” Frank roared. A foot slammed into his stomach and he gagged. Blood trickled out of his lips and dribbled down his chin, bile stinging his tongue. He swallowed it back down, cringing at the taste. “I’m going to fucking kill you, Rodrick!” He couldn’t move, shocked into a stationary position. “Dylan, get Brandon out of here.”

The door quickly opened and closed, so Rodrick saw his chance and scrambled up, a whine forming in the back of his throat. Frank threw his foot out again but Rodrick dodged it, instead flicking his shoe out and kicking his ex where the sun doesn’t shine. His eyes shone when Frank yelled and collapsed to the floor, holding himself. Rodrick dropped down to his knees and adrenaline pumped him forward, sending his fist into Frank’s face, a sickening crunch sending pain all down his arm. His ex pulled his shirt down and they fought, biting and punching each other.

Rodrick was growing more and more tired, and Frank rolled on top of him, hitting him hard in the face every time he leaned back. “You are so fucking dead,” Frank spat, annunciating each word. Rodrick spit out blood and held one of his ex’s hands, pulling the fist forward and biting the middle finger as hard as he possibly could, pulling like a rabid fucking animal. Frank screamed and reared back, “You dumb whore! Fucking slut!”, and a hand threaded through his tangled, wild black hair, pulling his head back. He could hardly control the vomit about to spill out of his mouth. Fuck! He was going to die! Frank was going to kill him!

Hands wrapped around Rodrick’s throat and he spluttered, clawing at the strong arms, trying to break himself free. His head was spinning and as his head was slammed into the ground, he realized with each pound that he was alive, he was _alive_ , and he had to get away, he had to live, he couldn’t die! The world became blurry but he saw Frank smirking, and suddenly he stiffened. _No...!_ Rodrick pathetically scratched his ex’s face, a tug of air leaving his lips in a soft wail.

“It was nice knowing you Rodrick,” Frank laughed, hands curling around his throat. “I’ll tell Greggy you passed away peacefully!”

 _Greg._ The name rang in his ears and he realized that Frank had called him _Greggy_. Greggy! That was _his_ nickname! There was no way Rodrick was letting this sadistic fuck anywhere near his little brother! Another surge of adrenaline passed through his body and he snapped his hands up, digging them into Frank’s eyes. _Gouging._ They were soft and squishy and pulsed under his thumbs, and the feeling of blood dripping down his fingers nearly made him throw up.

Frank screamed at the top of his lungs and pulled back, falling to the ground and holding his bleeding face in his hands. Everything hurt as Rodrick stood up, he couldn’t stand the sight of the crimson staining his fingernails, but he realized once more that he was still breathing. Seeing Frank on the ground, he turned and ripped a lamp out of the cord, holding it over Frank’s crying form.

Frank’s cloudy and broken gaze met his, pleading. “You would never do that, Rod. Would you... would you.. R-Really kill your ex?” Rodrick froze, glaring down. “Our fights have never gotten this violent,” his ex continued to choke out, trembling. “And- And if they did, we kissed and fucked it out. Why don’t we do that? Kiss it out?”

Rodrick nearly threw up on the spot. He would never, not now. Not ever again, not with _Frank_. He had to stay strong, so he curled his lip into a sneer. “Fuck you, Frank,” he spat. “We broke up almost a year ago. We’re over, forever. I’m leaving.”

Frank lifted his head up, grinning smugly. _No. Don’t do it, don’t fucking do it you coward._ He couldn’t murder his ex, and he couldn’t fuck him, so all he could really do was _run_.

“Rod, come on babe—”

Rodrick threw the lamp at Frank, who yelled and barely dodged, and quickly whirled around, running out of the house as fast as he could, nearly tripping over his tall legs as he sprinted out to his van. The fear was gripping him in threads and suddenly the world seemed so far away, so dark, so... so... _blurry_... and he let out a puff of air he’d been holding and saw the darkness creep up around his vision, drowning him, spilling him in a nightmare that he’d never be able to escape from... and suddenly Rodrick couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t feel, and it felt like everything was a dream, a horrible, horrible dream, and when the last light drifted out of vision, he couldn’t hold his legs up any longer... 

He was just so _tired_..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter yet! Took me a whole 3 straight hours to write, and I’m pretty sure I have a crook in my neck now, but it was hella worth it! I hope it’s not too long for anyone reading, so if you manage to get through it, tell me what you think! Y’know, if there’s anyone besides Alina reading (;


	5. Seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Scully talk. An old case visits D.C.

As soon as Rodrick fled out of the door, it felt like the world had come crashing down on Mulder from all sides. His fingers clenched and he nervously glanced from side to side with hazel eyes, biting the inside of his cheek.

Scully caught his look and sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. “Colin? Can you go outside? I need to.. talk..”

Colin furrowed his brows and curled his lip. “What do you have to say to him that I can’t hear, Dana?”

She turned to him, clearly annoyed. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t concern you. Leave.”

He glared daggers at her, slowly shifting his gaze to Mulder. “We’ll talk about this at home,” he hissed, snapping his head around, “I’ll drive myself back, no thanks to _you_.” He wheeled himself around and disappeared out of the apartment.

Mulder puffed out a breath of air and winced from the stings, wringing his hands together and feeling the bruises pulse beneath his fingers. He leaned back on the couch, eyes half-lidded as he stared at Scully. “What did you want to talk about?” he mumbled, not at all interested in another conversation. That hadn’t ended well last time.

She pursed her lips and tilted her head toward him, shifting so she was seated next to his left side. “You should take a shower.”

He raised a brow. _This is what you wanted to talk about?_ He did, however, hold his tongue, and instead snorted. “I’m fine. No one’ll even see me, yeah? Spooky Mulder is confined to the basement.” He forced out a toothy grin but she didn’t take the bait. Agh. What did he expect? She could read him so well. That’s why they’d once worked wonderfully as partners. But now...

Scully glanced at him disapprovingly and slowly reached her hand up, silently asking for confirmation. He hesitantly nodded and relaxed under her touch, closing his eyes as she brushed his brown, feathery hair out of his face. The touch was so _warm_ , so _soft_ , and fuck, he missed her so badly. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice broke and he looked down at her, trembling. “I’m sorry for what I did. I’m sorry for what I said. It was horrible. All of it. You... you never deserved to be treated like that.”

She quickly shook her head and cupped his face. “Mulder, it — it’s _okay_.” Her eyes swam with tears. “I.. I don’t blame you. I know why you did it.”

He smothered out a sob. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry..”

_He stood at his window, moonlight spilling into the room and brightening it in an eerie white glow. Mulder watched the cars splutter by, gaze narrowed and face gaunt. He turned and sat on the couch, looking down at the gun that rested there, and began to cry. He shakily picked it up and felt the smooth ridges as he ran his fingers down the sides. He wanted to do this. He needed to do this._

_Truly, what did he have to live for anymore? His sister had been abducted when he was 12, he’d been beaten by his father and ignored by his mother, he’d driven both Phoebe and Diana away with his suicide attempts, he’d brought his cloned sister to his parents with the belief it was actually her, he’d watched his father bleed out in front of him, he’d caused the death of Scully’s sister and put her in a miserable place, he’d stood by the sidelines as Scully lived with her cancer, he’d ignored the phone call before his mother had killed herself, and now — now Scully was with _Colin_ , and she didn’t love him anymore, nobody loved him, he was — he was so alone. He had nothing to live for anymore._

_The tears dripped down his cheeks as he slowly raised his hands, turning the pistol around and sliding the cool metal over his tongue, breath hitching when the muzzle pressed to the top of his mouth. This was it. He wanted this. It was better for everyone if he did this._

__

__

_But... fuck..! There would always be a part of him that desperately clawed for life, that would try to tell him that he’d done bad things but it was _okay_ , that he should forgive himself for those things. But how could he? How could he, when the bad so heavily outweighed the good?_

__

__

_Mulder forced his shaking hands to cease and let his thumb slide over the trigger, testing the waters. A cold icy dread spilled through his body and washed him in sheets of black, goosebumps prickling under his skin. He screwed his eyes shut and closed his mouth around the gun, raggedly breathing out. This was it. This was the moment. It was finally his time to go, another name to add to his family’s tragedy..._

_Sobs escaped his lips and he tightened his grip on the pistol, shaking his head. He couldn’t back out now, not when he was this close. Mulder opened his hazel eyes and the world blurred around him, tears clouding his vision. He thickly exhaled and focused instead on the cold metal pushing up against the roof of his mouth, hoping that would calm him down. He relaxed, letting his shoulders slump, and murmured out a word of apology._

_Then, he pulled the trigger._

_The world flashed before him in sheets of black and white. The pain was so piercing it sent him writhing to the ground in a heap of blood-curdling screaming and crying. He’d expected to pass out, he’d _expected to pass out_ , but oh god, he wasn’t, he was just laying here, so pathetic and miserable and so desperate to just _die_. He clawed the rug that his cheek had collided with and shrieked when he _felt_ the bullet ricochet inside, bouncing his head around with each twist. He sobbed hysterically and curled up in a ball, the white spots washing over his vision._

_Blood welled in his mouth and trickled out of his lips in thick clumps, gags wrenching from his throat as the copper overwhelmed his senses. He tried to yell for help, but nothing would come out anymore — he was shaking horribly and banging his fists on the ground, _hoping_ that someone would hear him, _begging_ for someone to come find him and end his pain._

_Everything swam around him like stars, only the echo of a door opening really processing in his wounded mind. He was sure he could hear a screech of shock and terror, but it was so far away, he wasn’t sure... Mulder twitched his fingers and lolled his head forward, crying softly when he saw the outline of a person running towards him. Scully? Was it her? Had she come to save him? Oh, god, he hoped... he wanted to see her one last time.._

“Mulder. Hey. Shhh.” Scully bent forward and gently touched the back of his head, running her fingers over the scars under his hair, resting his cheek on her shoulder. “Don’t be sorry. I’m your partner — if anything, _I_ should be apologizing. I should’ve seen the signs sooner..” 

He jerked his head up and stared into her blue eyes, shaking his head. “No, don’t say that,” he croaked. “I hid it, up until then. I — I didn’t want anyone to know that I was going to do it. Especially not you.”

“It’s a miracle you survived,” Scully breathed, “so that’s all I care about now. I care about you. I care about your health. I don’t want to see you become another statistic.”

Mulder desperately nodded. “I — I know. I won’t do it again. Ever. It hurt so bad.” He sobbed into her dark shirt and clung to her chest, as if he’d be ripped away at any moment. “I won’t..”

She slowly pulled back, staring at him silently. His breath hitched as he stared into those beautiful, sparkling ocean eyes, something akin to excitement and nervousness spreading through his entire body like tree branches. Mulder slowly leaned forward, heart beating heavily, raising his hands to follow the rhythm in her chest. She paused, considered, then bent down as well, locking their mouths together for the first time — well, _ever_. He relaxed in her grasp and brushed over her, feeling the softness of her lips touch his own. Mulder nearly cried out. For the first time ever, they were _kissing_.

He slowly raised his hands, nervous, and squeezed her breast. She moaned into his mouth and he felt his cock twitch in his pants, heart rate spiking. Was — was this wrong? They were so close, their _bodies_ so close, her breath was so warm, but she — she was with Colin, this wasn’t right, this —

All thoughts melted away when she bent her arms under his shirt and ran her palms down his abdomen, feeling the muscles press under her touch. He didn’t have any words, because this couldn’t be real, this... this had to be a dream..! But then he thought about Colin, and how _bad_ this would be if he found out... “Scully..” Mulder broke away and tilted his head to the side, screwing his eyes shut. “Colin...”

Scully stared at him, looking pained. “I-It doesn’t matter. He’ll never know.”

 _He could guess. He might know just by looking at her._ Mulder groaned into his palms and ran his fingers through his hair. This was wrong. All of it was wrong. They needed to stop. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “but.... I just... we can’t.”

She leaned back, looking physically pained. Mulder screwed his eyes shut and felt the guilt weigh down on his chest. _I’m a fucking failure. Why did I kiss her? That was so stupid. Stupid!_ He wanted to smash his head into a wall, beat himself up for being so irrational. They could never work, and Scully had a boyfriend... fucking Colin.

“I’m sorry,” he said miserably.

Scully shook her head slowly and stood up from the couch, gnawing on her bottom lip mindlessly. “You’ll be okay?”

Mulder nodded and waved a hand, nonchalant. “Yeah, yeah, I always am.”

She looked at him dubiously, clearly not swayed by his words. “I’ll come visit you soon. For now, just stay put at the Bureau, do some desk work until you heal.”

“ _Scully_ ,” he groaned, wiping his palms down his face. “C’mon. I can’t stay there all day doing nothing, you know I’ll go crazy.”

“Too bad,” she said, scrutinizing him. “You’re injured. Skinner will know soon enough.”

 _Skinner will know._ That filled Mulder with some kind of inexplicable dread. _If Skinner knows, the news will surely move up the chain of command until The Smoking Man finds out. I don’t think this was his attack, but... if he sees I’m weak, he could strike._

“I need my gun,” Mulder stated thickly. The fear and paranoia was beginning to overwhelm his entire being. _I can’t be alone. I’ll die. Krycek will fucking kill me._

Scully immediately tensed at Mulder’s words, brows doing a confused and exasperated dance. “No,” she eventually settled on, voice harsher than usual. Scully glared at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He tried not to flinch. “Nothing. I just want my gun in case anything happens again. Do you think I would’ve been jumped had I pointed a very dangerous weapon at those men? No, I don’t think so.” A pause. “Scully. Tell Skinner I’m okay. It’s been _months_.”

“Like hell you’re okay!” Scully snarled, hands balling into fists. Her blue eyes were lapping with fire, teeth clenched. “You-- Jesus, Mulder. Do I really need to get the fucking elephant in the room out of the way? _You attempted suicide._ We do not live in a fantasy world, Mulder, and threats like yours are not easily overcome. Skinner needs more time. _I_ need more time before I can fully trust you.”

Something akin to hurt spread in Mulder’s chest. He looked at his partner, bewildered. “You don’t trust me?”

She crossed her arms. “Not with yourself, no. The only time I’ll let you have your gun is if you’re with me, on a case. But seeing as you’re on temporary leave...” Scully shook her head. “It’s not happening, Mulder. I suggest you buy some pepper spray and get the fuck over it.”

Mulder’s throat felt like it closed up. He wrapped his arms around his body, squeezing his shoulders with his fingers. “Get out,” he whispered.

Scully stared at him. “Mulder.”

“I SAID GET OUT!” he screamed, looking straight at his partner. Mulder saw the flash of pain behind Scully’s mask, but it was gone as soon as it had come, and he wondered if he’d imagined it.

“Fine,” she said in a clipped tone. “But you’re staying here. There’s no getting past that.” Scully gave him a look he couldn’t decipher then turned on her heel, opening and slamming the door shut behind her. Mulder flinched at the harsh vibration of the apartment and suddenly he was back in his childhood room, eyes wide and terrified as his father slammed the door shut, belt in hand. 

“No. Please,” Mulder whispered aloud, hands covering his face. He tried to stand up but lost his footing and toppled to the ground, body stinging from the pain. Mulder clawed his way to the corner of the apartment and wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to shove away the thoughts of his father. _It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re not a child anymore, you’re fucking 33 years old. Your father is dead. I think you can deal._

Breathing in harshly, Mulder attempted to calm himself down. The panic was still clawing at his throat, but he was slowly growing more relaxed. He realized how much his body ached, and the thought that he could’ve died in that alley last night.... well. To be honest, it wasn’t the worst thought. Maybe he _should’ve_ died.

Mulder’s thoughts were interrupted when his telephone rang. He was one of the last people he knew with a landline, but oh well, sue him. _Whatever. I can’t get up right now, anyway._ Mulder let the line trill until it cut short and a voice gurgled through the speaker. “Uh...” The voice seemed to belong to a young male, maybe a teenager, but there was something familiar and gravelly there. “I don’t know if you remember me, but my name is Gibson Praise.” Mulder’s head immediately shot up. _Gibson Praise? The chess kid? The one that could read minds?_ Yeah, he definitely remembered Gibson. Pretty grumpy, but had helped nonetheless. “I’m in town. I need to see you. It’s important, and I can’t talk about it over the phone, so come to Red Roof Plus, room 199-”

Mulder wasted no time in leaping to his feet. He wobbled slightly, feeling the world tip, but kept his footing. He shrugged on his black trenchcoat and picked up his keys, locking the door behind him and heading out to his car. Mulder slipped in the driver’s seat and breathed out, starting the car. _What does he need? Has something happened? Why me?_ Shaking his head, Mulder found a map stashed behind his seat and located the Red Roof Plus Motel. 

He arrived fairly quickly, but maybe that’s because he’d been speeding. Mulder quickly found the Room 199 and hesitated before knocking, hands clenching. What if this was a trap? Something set up by Colin, or the Smoking Man? A sense of dread filled his belly and it felt like he was going to throw up. Oh, no. Oh no no no no-

Then Gibson opened the door.

He was average in height, ‘plump’ in size if you could call it that. He had round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, pale gray eyes sparkling back. Brown hair swept over his forehead and he was wearing a blue-striped shirt and black pants. Without a word, Gibson stepped to the side and Mulder walked inside, looking around the dreary-colored motel. “So. It really is you.”

Gibson didn’t reply. He sat on the bed and waited expectantly for Mulder, so he seated himself in one of the chairs across the room.

A beat of silence. Mulder sighed. “Why did you call me here, Gibson?” He looked emotionless as usual, but something was off.... _He’s worried. Why?_

“You’re right,” Gibson said unexpectedly, “I am worried.”

_Shit. He can read minds - I forgot. Guess it won’t do any good to try and hide my thoughts, it’ll be a waste of energy._

“Yup, you’re right, so don’t be stupid Mulder. We don’t have a lot of time.” Gibson looked from side to side nervously, foot bouncing up and down. 

Mulder leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?” No answer. “And you still didn’t answer my first question,” he pressed.

“Look,” the teenager said slowly, “I’m afraid something is going to happen to me soon - y’know, the whole alien conspiracy with the bounty hunter and everything. They’re coming for me again. I can feel it. I don’t know how soon, but—” Gibson raised his hand to silence Mulder before he could speak, “you can’t protect me. I’m beyond that point. They’ll find me, and besides, you can’t fight them off.”

“Bees, Gibson.”

He shook his head. “That may have worked last time, but they’re getting stronger. They always are, Mulder. You know you can’t rely on old tactics anymore. This is becoming serious.”

“If I can’t protect you, why’d you call me then?” Mulder asked, crossing his arms, eyes fixated on the teen.

Gibson frowned. “Look... I know you’re annoyed, but just hear me out. I know a secret from the government - a secret they’re planning against _you_ , Mulder.” 

The FBI Agent’s mouth went dry. He couldn’t hide his surprise. _I haven’t been on a case in months! Why are they planning something?_

“Someone...” Gibson hesitated. “Someone close to you isn’t on your side. It was muffled, and I couldn’t piece together everything, but that much I know for sure.”

“And how _do_ you know?” Mulder asked a little defensively.

“I can read minds, Mulder.” His voice grew harder as he stood up. “Don’t go stupid on me. But that’s all the time I have. You probably won’t be seeing me for a long time.”

“Wait, Gibson.” Mulder threw himself to his feet and ignored the quizzical look from the teenager when he wobbled. “I... I can help you. Let me help you. I’ll find a way.”

“You can’t, Mulder.” Gibson’s voice became deathly quiet. “Checkmate. Game over for me. Now leave before they come!”

And so Mulder left the motel with more questions than answers stalling his mind. He drove on auto-pilot, head jumbling with thoughts and theories. Someone close to him was going to betray him? Who? Scully? Skinner? _Rodrick_?

His throat felt like it closed. That was it, wasn’t it? _Rodrick_ was the one. Of course he was. Mulder had been stupid enough to let him into his apartment, it hadn’t been a random coincidence he’d saved him from Colin. _He wasn’t a friend. He was a fucking enemy._ The paranoia began to overwhelm him and Mulder wondered how much he’d spilled to Rodrick - he hardly remembered, his head was fuzzy. But Mulder knew he’d told Rodrick too much. Jesus fuck....there had to be a fucking camera somewhere in his apartment now! That’s why he’d needed to come to his house, right? 

“Fuck!” Mulder yelled, panic gripping him coldly. Had Colin planned this? Or was it The Smoking Man? Oh, shit. Shit shit shit. No no no no no. Rodrick knew everything, now. Knew he was a believer. Knew he was insane. Fuck, he’d heard about Skinner! Scully! His friends! 

Looks like he wasn’t going to work after all.

When he returned home, Mulder threw his couch over and began digging through the cushions, trying to find any evidence of a bug. He lifted his head. _Think, think, think.....where did Rodrick go? He sat on the couch, right? Shit. He went to the sink. He walked around - it could be anywhere!_ Mulder pushed tables aside, ripped carpet from the ground, used his knuckles to feel for any unnatural spots in the wall that weren’t hollow. He considered tearing the walls apart but forced himself to calm down. _Jesus, you’re a mess. Calm down. Calm the fuck down... you’re fine. No one put a fucking camera in your apartment!_

Fuck, was he going crazy? Mulder ran his fingers through his hair and pulled. But Gibson had been worried and he was able to read minds - didn’t that mean something? Didn’t that mean Rodrick was the variable in this equation? _Gibson came to town today and only contacted me AFTER Rodrick left...this isn’t right. It can’t be._ Mulder trusted the kid. He had to be right. 

He turned and began to smash his fists into the wall angrily, hardly feeling the pain that came along. When he was finished, Mulder pulled his hands back and rubbed his bruised and bloody knuckles. Fuck. Fuck! He was a goddamn mess.

He thickly inhaled and forced himself to look around at the mess he’d created. Mulder backed up to the wall and slid down to the ground, hands wringing together nervously. He felt hopeless. Of course it was like him to get drunk and taken advantage of. Still, he was smart, smarter than Colin gave him credit for. He knew when people were using or manipulating him, and he was 99% Colin was.... just by Rodrick. Fuck. Mulder wanted to strangle him. Colin, not Rodrick. Probably. He couldn’t decipher Rodrick well enough, he hid his emotions behind a mask pretty well. But he was out of his life now, and Mulder had to deal with this.

How _did_ he deal with this? Go find Colin? Try to hunt down the Smoking Man? Kill himself? Kill Colin? Disappear for a while to think things over? So many options and so much time. Maybe he could do all of them.

A pang caused his heart to jump nervously. Would it matter if he did something reckless again? Maybe _actually_ killed himself this time? _I could jump out of my window. That would kill me immediately. I don’t want to die that way, but I will._ Scully didn’t need him. She had Colin, and she’d get a new partner, and Skinner would be happy to have Mulder out of his life. 

Mulder wanted his friends back. He wanted The Lone Gunmen. He’d loved them like brothers, but now...now they were dead, and he was alone once more. He should just leave. Leave forever, quit the FBI, go to fucking Alaska and disappear for life. No one would miss him, and he could finally look for his sister without any judgement from Scully or Skinner. He _would_ find her. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with the Smoking Shitass or whatever his real name was. No more stupid speeches from Old Smokey. And Rodrick.... he didn’t even know Rodrick, wasn’t sure what he was in on, but knew he wouldn’t ever see him again. 

A loud knock at the front door pulled Mulder from his thoughts. He froze, stomach churning with anxiety. Scully? No, she never came back the same day they had a fight. Colin? That filled him with inexplicable dread. _What, did he wheel himself over here?_ Mulder thought bitterly. He shakily stood up and crossed the length to the door, hesitating. The peep hole was blocked out so no one could see if he was at the door. _That means I’ll have to look._

Closing his eyes and reopening them, bracing himself for the inevitable, Mulder opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This only took 6 months to write..... lmao oh well. This’ll have slow updates, but here we are anyway!! Hope y’all enjoyed, can’t wait to get to the juicy stuff. We have SO much ahead of us..... this is only part 1 of 17~ so you have some stuff to look forward to.
> 
> Love you guys!


	6. Couch or the Floor, Babe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodrick seeks out Mulder. Hardest decision: Who the hell is gonna sleep on the couch?

As soon as Mulder had opened the door, Rodrick immediately knew something was off. He looked rougher than usual, hair a mess, dark rings under his almost crazed-looking eyes. Usual was a relative term, of course, considering Rodrick hadn’t known Mulder for — well, any longer than a day, but — sue him for being concerned, okay?

Not as if Rodrick looked any better, though. His ex had nearly fucking killed him and his face was beat in, blood smeared across his forehead and arms, bruises staining his skin. Mulder stared back at him, looking surprised and hesitant. “What happened to you?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” he half-heartedly joked. “Got my ass handed to me by my ex.” A pause and Rodrick frowned when Mulder didn’t say anything. This was stupid. Why did he come _here_ of all places? “Seriously, though. I told my bandmates I didn’t want to go to the gig and fired them. Sadly.... they didn’t take it well. I’m kinda lucky I’m not dead!” He shrugged lazily and tried to smile, but it was weak. 

Mulder nodded slowly, but appeared distracted. “Well, that sucks.... yeah, I’m glad you aren’t dead.” There was no emotion behind the words, like the FBI Agent’s soul had been sucked out of his body.

Rodrick raised a brow. “Yeah. It got a little close though. Word of advice, Mulder, don’t let some weirdo near your throat! Bad choice!” 

“Yeah.....bad choice,” the FBI Agent said softly.

Everything felt really awkward. Mulder wasn’t even looking at him, eyes wavering from side to side. _Maybe he just doesn’t want me to come in..._ His friend — friend? — was holding the door pretty close to his side, and everything inside was dark. It wasn’t Rodrick’s business, though. Even if he was having bad vibes.... he _did_ miss Mulder. He was the only straight guy Rodrick could flirt with! And...well, Rodrick needed money. But he obviously wasn’t going to straight-up ask, unlike he had with his father years ago. He would try to be nice and respectful.

“Soo...” Rodrick began, trying to break the silence. “I thought you went to work? I’m not complaining or anything, just wondering.”

Mulder stiffened. “Uh, just decided to take the day off... with what happened last night and everything...”

“Ah, I get it. Hopefully you feel better than before and are staying out of crazy shit.” Rodrick smirked and made sure his voice was playful, wanting to lighten the tense mood. Did Mulder suddenly not like him anymore? But they’d just met yesterday! And Rodrick had thought they’d had a good time... _No, that’s silly. Mulder’s probably just annoyed about Colin._ That reassured him a little. 

The FBI Agent tapped his foot and finally met Rodrick’s gaze. “So, are you here for something?” 

Okay. That didn’t sound good. Maybe Mulder had been a bit grumpy last night, but not like _this_! It didn’t matter though....Rodrick needed money so he had to be nice and get this over with. Forcing a smirk on his face, Rodrick said, “Am I here for something? Can’t I just come to hang out with my new bestie?” He cleared his throat and his smile thinned. “Actually, yeah. I kinda am, but I’d rather hang with you before I ask. Can I come in?” Maybe he should joke about vampires or werewolves to woo Mulder over? The FBI Agent didn’t seem to be too fond of him at the moment, and that pushed Rodrick the wrong way. “I don’t know if I’m a vampire, so I would rather be invited in. If I walk in myself, I could explode or some shit.”

Mulder stared at him and sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. He slowly stepped aside and the door creaked open, sunlight flooding in through the apartment. “Just....ignore the mess,” he muttered.

“Oh, come on, it can’t be _that_ bad—” But as soon as Rodrick’s eyes adjusted to the darkness he stopped in his tracks, dark eyes scanning the place. What the fuck? _It looks like someone robbed him!_ Tables kicked over, cushions all over the floor, carpets ripped up... Jesus. Rodrick ran fingers through his wild black hair, sighing. “Mess? Mulder, what the fuck happened here?”

“Uh,” Mulder said dumbly.

And then it all clicked together. Was Mulder acting so weird because Colin did something? Was he behind this? Obviously he didn’t do it himself, as he was in a wheelchair, but.... Feeling protective, Rodrick dangerously narrowed his eyes and turned to the FBI Agent. “Did that shit-faced Colin do this?” Maybe Mulder had tried to hurt him, or they’d gotten in another fight. Anything could’ve happen while Rodrick was busy nearly dying. Then he saw Mulder’s bloody knuckles and stalked over, taking them in his hands, trying not to wonder why the agent had flinched so hard. Yep. Knuckles bruised to hell. “Did he send one of those assholes over here to hurt you?” Rage. “Oh my god, I’m gonna kill them. I’m gonna fucking kill them.”

And then Mulder _laughed_ , and Rodrick had to do a double take. “No,” the agent said, “wasn’t Colin or one of his guys.” He shrugged softly. “I kind of, uh, punched the wall a few too many times. Then the furniture. I was um...kinda paranoid.” 

Rodrick looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Now I wish you would’ve just lied to me and said Colin had done it. Now I have to kick your ass for hurting yourself!” He said it in a teasing, half-serious way. Mulder certainly didn’t need to hurt himself, but it was amusing, in a fucked up sort of way. Still...looking around, Rodrick wondered how Mulder was so strong. And stupid.

Mulder walked over to his couch, shoving the cushions back on. He froze and Rodrick wondered what was up, but the hesitation was gone as soon as it’d been there. “Oh. Well, guess this is kind of...normal?”

“I wouldn’t say normal, but I guess this is as normal as it gets for you, right?” Rodrick grunted. A normal occurrence, wonderful. That didn’t inspire confidence. “I thought _my_ knuckles were bad... yours must hurt like hell.” He walked around and inspected the mess, hands in his pockets. “I’m no doctor, but I bet your knuckles would start to feel better if you let me kiss them~” Flirting with Mulder was fun and amusing. He never knew what the agent was going to reply with. That excited him.

“Oh, they’re fine,” Mulder responded. “But charming.”

Rodrick smiled. “Heh, I know, I’m such a charmer. Honestly, I don’t see how you aren’t all over my offers of kisses yet. Trying to give me a challenge, huh?” His voice grew softer. “On a more serious note, I’m glad you’re A-Okay. Your face is too pretty to be hurt like that.” Rodrick pouted. “Makes me upset.” He wanted to split open Mulder’s head and see what was inside. What had the agent seen? Experienced? Felt? What was on his mind right now? Rodrick really wanted to know. 

Mulder grinned slightly. “A challenge it is. But...” He shrugged. “Yeah, I’m fine. This pretty face has been through more than just that.” 

Okay, wow, this was still surprising. Mulder was seriously fine with his flirting? He wondered if the agent was just a teeeeeny bit gay.... Nope, no, Mulder definitely wasn’t. Still, Rodrick couldn’t help smiling when Mulder smiled. It made him seem lame. “A challenge it is then. I shall go slow, since I actually like you!” Rodrick placed a hand on his chest and sent a charming smile Mulder’s way. “And I’ll take you on a date or two to get you into it. Cuddle with you, hunt down monsters and aliens, the normal couple stuff.” Probably in his dreams.

“Well, that’s nice to know. Maybe we’ll even catch our first wendigo,” Mulder joked. He finally turned to Rodrick and instantaneously became more serious, jaw clenching. “How about you tell me what happened to _you_? Do I need to go kick someone’s ass?”

Rodrick chuckled. At least Mulder was feeling better, and it was nice to know he wasn’t hated. “I told you at the door. I informed my bandmates that I didn’t want to go to that dumb gig, they didn’t like it, so I fired them. Cause that’s just rock and roll, you know babe?” He took a seat beside Mulder and stretched his feet out. His whole body felt like a big bruise. He really just wanted a shower and a good nap. Lazily fluttering his gaze, Rodrick looked at the agent. “But my guitarists, and ex, decided to kill me. Luckily I got out.” He was able to say the words easily enough, but deep inside his stomach was churning with nausea. 

“Oh,” Mulder said. “Right. Well, they’re stupid asses. I can try and set up a case, if you want. I mean.” He paused. “I don’t know if I can since I don’t do normal cases, but Skinner might be able to do something about it.” He shrugged. “You’d just need to give him the facts of the case, write it down, tape it. Anything, really.”

Rodrick laughed softly, trying to play the situation off. Mulder didn’t need anything else on his plate right now. “We just fought is all. Pretty sure he won’t try it again Fox- thanks for telling me though. If I ever need to file a case, I’ll remember to talk to this Skinner dude.”

“Yep, Walter Skinner. Don’t forget it.” Mulder’s smile faded. “Do you want any water? I haven’t really offered you anything. Sorry...” He looked over Rodrick’s wounds and his heart pounded in his chest. Jesus Christ, horny enough? “I could call Scully over but she’s probably gonna complain about how me and my friends can’t stay out of trouble for one day.”

“Yeah,” Rodrick smiled. Wow, Mulder was such a gentleman! “That would be super great if you wouldn’t mind. Actually-” His mind began anxiously turning gears. “No, no no, it’s okay, you aren’t feeling well, I can get it myself actually...” Rodrick slowly stood up and pain spiked in his back. “Fuck,” he cursed. 

Mulder began to stand up.

“Nope,” Rodrick said, walking over to the cabinets. Well, more like _limping_. “Which one has cups? Sit your ass down, Mulder, and relax. You need it.”

“No,” the agent said, walking past Rodrick and reaching up into one of the cupboards. Fuuuuuuuck he was so hot. Why couldn’t Mulder be gay? That would be seriously very nice. “You sit _your_ ass down. I’m getting the water.”

“I have my rights!” Rodrick protested. “I shall not be the woman in this relationship! Equality!” His heart swelled to see Mulder in a much better mood. _He’d_ done that. Him, not some other dude, fucking _Rodrick Heffley_. That really meant a lot.

Mulder smirked. “Equality, equality.... sorry woman, but I’m a man of order!” He filled the cup with water and opened the fridge, dropping a few ice cubes inside. “C’mon.” The agent led the way back to the couch and plopped down, handing the cup to Rodrick. 

He drank ravenously from the cup, realizing how fucking thirsty he was. Rodrick leaned back and set the cup on the table, water dribbling from his chin that he wiped off. “Ahhh...” A yawn wrenched from his throat. Jesus fuck he was tired.

Mulder looked over, brows furrowed with concern. “You can sleep if you want. I don’t mind if you stay here, it’s probably best you don’t get back on the road yet anyway. You can sleep on the couch-” Mulder winced. “Sorry, it’s not the most efficient, I’ll sleep on the floor. I mean. If you want. You don’t _have_ to stay.”

The offer was surprising, to say the least. Rodrick smiled and shook his head, though. “I don’t want to intrude. But... that’s kinda the reason I came here. My....friend took my money, so I have none left. I mean, I wasn’t going to ask to live here with you! And besides.” His shoulders deflated. “You would get annoyed with me around. I’m shit company. So I love the thought and offer, but you don’t even want me to live here.”

The agent crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side, thinking. “I’m not the best company either. _Clearly_.” Mulder motioned toward the wrecked house and Rodrick couldn’t help but giggle, though that hurt his lungs. 

“Don’t talk badly about yourself,” Rodrick said, eyes light. “I’m honored you even want me in your presence, darling.” Darling or Babe? Both worked, he figured.

Mulder rolled his hazel eyes. SO. FUCKING. CUTE. “Sure, like you didn’t just do the same thing. And I do, that’s why I’m offering you this amazing stay at my apartment. And besides, I’m not letting you back on the roads, and I’m pretty sure you can’t run, so you’re staying here. I....don’t have much money at the moment, haven’t been to work that much recently, so it’s the least I can do to help.”

“You aren’t letting me back on the _road_? Someone seems to really want me to stay.” However, hearing about the money made him want to deflate. Oh well. “Kay, well I would love to stay, but it’s either we both sleep on the couch, or I sleep on the floor and you get the couch.” 

Mulder suddenly stood up and walked over to his fish tank. Rodrick watched as he dropped dry brown pellets into the water, a few fish greedily eating them up. “You’re sleeping on the couch, you’re in worse shape than me. And besides, what kind of host would I be if I gave you the floor?”

Rodrick crossed his arms stubbornly. “Nope, I will legit fight you for the floor. We can both try to fit on this amazing couch or I can sleep on the floor. So shut up, Mulder.” He couldn’t help but smile. This guy was really fun to hang around. “Besides, you need more sleep than me, babe. You’re an FBI Agent!”

“I’m not fighting you, I’d win either way. I went through training, you know.” Mulder smiled at the fish and turned to Rodrick, ignoring the sleeping comment.

The black-haired male grunted. “No. You’ll have to murder me to get the couch, Mulder. I don’t see why you’re fighting me on this. I’m Rodrick Heffley. I can sleep wherever!” 

Mulder softly smiled again, fond and light and sincere. Rodrick was pretty sure he was in love. He didn’t feel judged, didn’t feel awkward or upset, he was comfortable. At ease. He hadn’t felt this way for a long time. When Mulder seated himself back beside Rodrick, he had this inexplicable feeling wash over him. He really wanted to kiss Mulder. It had to be a surprise, though. Rodrick lifted the TV changer and breathed in, wrapping an arm around Mulder’s neck and laying his head on the agent’s shoulder. He hit the power button.

Tits and ass flashed back. Some dude was pounding into a girl, grunting heavily as he came. This wasn’t the kind of porn Rodrick liked, but for some reason, seeing it on Mulder’s television REALLY turned him on. His cock twitched and Rodrick went red, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. 

“Oh,” Mulder said casually, thumbing for the changer and turning the screen off. “Guess I never took the tape out.”

Hearing the agent act so casual made Rodrick laugh. “Wow. I just saw porn. I need an adult!” He smirked, trying to pretend he wasn’t embarrassed. Rodrick Heffley didn’t get embarrassed. “Mulder, if you ever need some new stuff, I could take pictures for you some time~” His dark eyes filled with affection and he tapped Mulder’s chin. 

“You look tired,” Mulder said, ignoring Rodrick’s flirting. “Maybe you should sleep. I have a case to work on anyway, so you can take the couch—”

Rodrick cut off Mulder’s voice by leaning his head closer to the agent’s chest. He could hear the heartbeat beneath flesh, and it was calming in a weird sort of way. Both men went quiet, suspended in time. Rodrick felt the drowsiness clawing through his body, exhaustion threatening to pull him under right now. “Mmmmgh,” he groaned sleepily. “This is hot, but I’m going to dream land.... if my phone rings, tell me.”

Mulder shifted away and Rodrick forced himself not to whine. The agent handed him a blanket and a pillow. “Will do,” he said softly.

Rodrick lifted his head drowsily. “Mulder?”

The brown-haired male was in the middle of standing, but turned to look at Rodrick. “Yeah?”

“You should sleep too. Fuck your case. Sometimes you are more important.” Rodrick wasn’t sure where that had come from, but it felt like the right thing to say. 

Mulder never replied.


End file.
